


Always The Bridesmaid

by Lenni51074



Series: Book/Movie Rewrites [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BFF Maria Hill, Because we all know that Natasha Romanov is not really this selfish, Dad Phil Coulson, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hate to Love, Is it a love triangle if two of the people involved aren't aware of it?, It's purely for this fic, Language, Love Triangles, OOC Natasha Romanov, POV First Person, Reader is a hopeless romantic, Sibling Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is cynical about love, Unrequited Love, but not really, journalist steve rogers, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenni51074/pseuds/Lenni51074
Summary: You are everybody’s best friend – kind, generous, altruistic and loyal. You will always do whatever anyone asks of you, without hesitation or question. You love your friends, and they love that you would do anything for them.However, when your younger sister arrives back in town, your dream life turns into a nightmare, especially when she announces her engagement to the man that you are secretly, desperately, head-over-heels in love with.To make matters worse, you constantly seem to find yourself in all sorts of uncomfortable situations with a cynical, romance-hating, sarcastic writer who seems to think that it’s his job to destroy your rose-coloured outlook on life and love.Eventually, you begin to wonder if everything you thought you knew about love was wrong. And if it is, then maybe love is actually everything you never knew you wanted.This is an Avengers-based retelling of the movie ’27 Dresses’
Relationships: Clint Barton & Reader, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Maria Hill & Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Reader, Phil Coulson & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Book/Movie Rewrites [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546471
Comments: 15
Kudos: 88





	1. Born Romantic Versus Full-Grown Cynic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are a hopeless romantic, full of adoration for anything wedding related. At the wedding of a friend, you meet a man who apparently loathes weddings as much as you love them. Good thing you’ll never have to see him again.

I’ve always loved weddings, ever since I was a little girl. It was around the age of eight when I knew that weddings were something I would never grow tired of.

It was my cousin Jane’s wedding, to her fiancé Thor – a huge, blonde guy who reminded me of a Viking – and it was the first big family event we’d been to since my mother passed away. Dad was a wreck, trying to cope with everything, and not succeeding. I remember fixing my little sister Natasha’s hair, and having to take her to the bathroom to pee before the ceremony.

Suddenly cousin Jane let out a shrill scream. Racing to the full-length mirror, she stared in horror. “Shit! My wedding gown is ripped! How the fuck am I going to go down the aisle now?”

Her horror only increased when she heard myself and Natasha giggling at her potty mouth. Jane was usually so poised and proper. Naturally, at the tender ages of five and eight, Nat and I thought her colourful language was hysterical.

Inspiration struck me as Jane stared forlornly at her wedding gown. Taking the ribbon from Nat’s hair, I wove it through Jane’s gown to provide an impropmtu repair for it, and she was so grateful that she asked me to follow her down the aisle, holding her train.

That was the moment I fell in love with weddings, because I knew that I had helped someone on the most important day of their lives.

I couldn’t wait for the day when it would be my turn.

*******************************************

_20 years later…_

“Oh, Y/N, that dress is so beautiful. It fits you like it was made for you.”  
  
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. “Do you think so?”  
  
“It’s perfect, Y/N.” The dressmaker looked exceedingly pleased with her work.

Another assistant came racing over, phone in hand. “It’s for you, Y/N. It’s the bride.”

“Hey Wanda!… Yes, the dressmaker has just finished hemming the gown… I know, it’s a miracle that we are the exact same size!… Yes, I’ll bring it over to you shortly. Don’t worry about a thing. This is _your_ day, and I’m going to make sure that everything is perfect for you.”  
  
Half an hour later, I was dressed in a lavender bridesmaid dress, with the precious wedding gown safely ensconced in a garment bag. I crossed the busy Manhattan streets to the corner of Madison Avenue and East 51st Street, towards the New York Palace Hotel where Wanda was getting ready. Just outside the hotel I ran -literally - into my workmate and best friend, Maria Hill. She picked herself up with a laugh and then gave me an appreciative glance. 

“Hey, chicky! You look great. Oooh, what’s in the bag?” Maria asked excitedly, as I shoved a large makeup bag into her hands.

“The correct shade of lipstick, breath mints, extra-strength Tylenol and a pair of my earrings for you. And I need to fix your hair,” I muttered, casting a critical eye over the half-assed ponytail that Maria had hastily thrown her hair into.

“What? Wanda wanted our hair up, it’s up!” She pointed to the small carry-all I had in my hands. “What’s all that stuff?”

I ignored Maria’s question as I ushered her inside, where Wanda and the rest of the bridal party were waiting.

*******************************************

“Oh, you look adorable, Y/N! And the best part about the dress is that you can shorten it and wear it again,” Wanda beamed, as we posed on the marble staircase with the other bridesmaids for the pre-ceremony photos.

“That is so true,” I murmured in agreement. Maria rolled her eyes so hard I swear she saw her brain.

Once the photos were done, I led the bridesmaids down the aisle, followed by Wanda, who looked like an adorable little fairy in her gown. The full tulle skirt only emphasised how tiny she was, but she looked more radiant than I had ever seen her. She practically glowed.

The celebrant commenced the ceremony as Wanda stood next to her groom, Jarvis. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Wanda and Jarvis. This is a time of great joy, as we celebrate the joining of two people in holy matrimony.”  
  
I spared a glance at my watch, not noticing the puzzled frowns of either Maria or a tall, blond male in the crowd as I did so. _I’ve still got time,_ I thought to myself with relief. But I would be cutting it close.

As soon as the ceremony was over, I raced outside and hailed a cab. Surprisingly, for New York, I managed to get one straight away. “Corner of Washington and Plymouth Streets, Brooklyn,” I said to the cabbie.

“Sure thing, lady.”

“All right...“ I looked at the name on his dashboard, which proclaimed the driver to be Sam Wilson. “… Sam. I will pay you three hundred bucks for the entire night on one condition. You don’t look in the rear-view mirror under any circumstances, or I start deducting from that. Deal?”  
  
“You got it, Cupcake,” Sam said. However, he failed within five seconds as I started to change out of my bridesmaids dress. He looked back at me as he cried, “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Eyes front, Sam! You just cost yourself twenty bucks,” I glared at him.

“Sorry! I swear I’m not looking.”  
  
Sam raced to the hotel, and I told him to stay put. “I’ll be out shortly,” I promised.  
  
“I ain’t going anywhere, Cupcake,” he assured me.

I sprinted inside, my sari wrapped around my figure. Why Bruce and Betty had chosen a Bollywood theme for their wedding, I would never know. But it promised to be a fun night.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” Betty cried as I raced up to her. “You look beautiful. And the best thing about your dress is that you can shorten it and wear it again.”  
  
“That is definitely so true,” I agreed as we headed towards the room where the ceremony was to be held.

Once the ceremony was completed, I ran back outside to find Sam leaning nonchalantly against the hood of the cab. “Sam! What the hell are you doing? Get back in the car! Go, go, go!”  
  
He jumped in the front and headed back towards Manhattan before I’d even shut the door. He lost himself another twenty bucks when he glanced at me changing back into the lavender gown. At the rate he was going, he would be ferrying me back and forth all night for free.

*******************************************

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been stuck here alone with these people for forty-five minutes,” Maria hissed at me as I joined her at the table.  
  
“I had to duck out for a bit,” I replied.

She nodded her head towards a couple of the groomsmen. “Which one do you want, the blond or the brunette? I’m thinking I might actually go for the blond.”  
  
I rolled my eyes at her. “Good grief, Maria, that’s Wanda’s twin brother! Do you think you could keep it in your pants for one night?”  
  
“God, no! The only reason to wear this monstrosity is so that some sexed-up Lothario can rip it to shreds with his teeth in the throes of passion,” she smirked at me.

“You’re incorrigible. But I’m almost one hundred percent certain that Pietro will happily accommodate your request.” I sipped my champagne before glancing at my watch again. “I’ll be back shortly, Maria, I’ve just got to make a quick phone call.”

I raced outside to the cab where Sam was waiting for me.

*******************************************

Steve was on the phone outside the hotel. “What time is it now? Yeah, I’m probably going to be here for at least another couple of hours.”  
  
He frowned in puzzlement as he noticed a lavender streak race past him towards a waiting cab. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said into the phone.

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the rear window of the cab. “Well, that’s not a sight you see at most weddings,” he muttered to himself with a grin.  
  
*******************************************

The rest of the night was spent racing back and forth between Wanda and Jarvis’s wedding, and that of Bruce and Betty. I spent my time hastily changing bridesmaids dresses on the drive between the venues, holding up wedding dresses as the brides peed, dancing the YMCA and the Macarena, and missing out on actually eating anything because I was too busy running around after everyone else.

At one stage, Sam noticed that I was wearing the wrong shoes with the dress for Hope’s wedding, and threw the correct pair at me. He narrowly avoided smacking me in the face with them.

During the speeches, both Wanda and Betty said a few words.

“I just want to give a special ‘Thank you’ to a wonderful woman…” said Wanda.

“A girl who, without her help, none of this would have been possible,” continued Betty.

“…She helped me try out wedding cake, reception venues, caterers…” Wanda gushed.

“… designed the wedding invitations, arranged my bridal shower, boosted my self-esteem as I tried on about a million different wedding dresses…” Betty smiled.

“So thank you so much, Y/N! None of this could have happened without you!” Wanda beamed. She turned around, winking at me. “Everybody ready?”  
  
The bouquet was clearly aimed in my direction. This was it. I was actually going to catch the bouquet. Soon it would be my turn. I reached out towards the flowers which were heading towards me in a graceful arc, and just as my fingers were about to grasp them…

… I found myself staring up at a pair of incredibly blue eyes. The rest of the face eventually swam into focus, and I noticed a concerned expression on the face of a man I’d never seen before. It was a kind face, one that gave the impression that this person actually cared about me. Which was ridiculous, because I’d never met him before in my life.

I winced as I tried to sit up, but my new companion pushed me back down. “Stay down, you hit your head pretty hard. Can someone get some ice, please?” he pointedly asked one of the other bridesmaids, who stood gawking at me. He snapped his fingers and she instantly raced off to do his bidding.

“What happened?” I asked groggily, as the blond man helped me sit up carefully.

“You were tackled out of the way by a desperate single woman, and ended up at the bottom of a pile of a dozen other desperate single women. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell.” He stared into my eyes. “Do you know your name?”  
  
“Y/N.”  
  
“Y/N,” he repeated in his deep voice, then smiled at me gently. “I’m Steve.”

“Well, thank you for your assistance, Steve,” I said as he helped me stand. I assured him that I was fine, only to promptly prove that statement wrong as my knees buckled.  
  
“All right, why don’t we get you a cab? You need to get some rest.” Steve walked me outside, one large hand around my waist and the other holding one of my hands as he helped me to remain upright. Wanda followed with one of the table arrangements – a poor consolation for not having caught the bouquet. Steve helped me into Sam’s cab, and before I could protest he jumped in with me.

I gave Sam my address and then sat back, my head resting on the seat of the cab.

“I really liked your thong, by the way,” Steve told me in an amused tone. I stared at him in confusion, so he elaborated. “You raced past me earlier and I saw you changing gowns in the back of the cab. You were at two weddings on the same night, weren’t you?”

“So?”  
  
“Well, isn’t that kind of difficult?”  
  
I looked at him. “Wanda and Betty are both very good friends of mine, and their weddings just coincidentally happened to be on the same night. They both asked me to be their chief bridesmaid. What was I supposed to do, tell one of them ‘No’?”  
  
“Did you try that?” Steve sounded even more amused.

I stared at my unwelcome companion as if he were an idiot. “Of course not! This is the most important day of their lives. I couldn’t disappoint either of them like that.”  
  
Steve snorted. “I would have thought _one_ wedding would be bad enough. Two on the same night is just asking for trouble.”  
  
“I love weddings!” I protested. “I always have, ever since I was a little girl.”  
  
“So what’s your favourite part? The cheesy love songs, the stale cake, the flat champagne?” he asked sarcastically.  
  
“Well, clearly it’s not meeting optimistic rays of sunshine such as yourself,” I muttered.

“Love is patient, love is kind, love means slowly losing your mind,” Steve chanted.

I rolled my eyes. Bad move. It just made my brain hurt more. “What is it you do again?” I pretended to have forgotten, despite the fact that he’d never actually told me.  
  
“I’m a writer.”

Sam pulled up outside my apartment building, thus saving me from having to ask what kind of writing Steve did. Steve offered to pay, but I waved him away. “There you go, Sam. One hundred and forty dollars. You know what you did.”

Sam sighed and accepted the cash wordlessly.

Before I could stop him, Steve had hopped out of the cab, carrying the floral arrangement that Wanda had bestowed upon me. I stuck my head in the driver’s side window. “Stay here, Sam, he’s going to be right back.”  
  
“Don’t you think that a wedding is a whole lot of pain for an outdated ritual which, let’s be honest, only has about a fifty-fifty shot of lasting the distance?” Steve asked.

“Oh, what a refreshing change. A man who doesn’t believe in holy matrimony,” I scoffed.

Steve held up a hand in protest. “I’m just trying to point out the hypocrisy of spending so much money on a spectacle that’s pretty much a waste of everyone’s time.”  
  
I glared at him. “How noble of you. Do you also go around crushing little kids dreams about Santa and the Easter Bunny, too? Because the sooner they all get over that shit, the better.”  
  
“Ah! So you’re saying that believing in marriage is like believing in Santa Claus!” Steve smirked triumphantly.

“ _No!_ You know what, I don’t know why I’m bothering explaining myself to you. I don’t even know you.” I snatched the flowers from my grumpy companion and grudgingly held out my hand for him to shake. “I’d love to say that it was nice meeting you, but it really wasn’t.”  
  
Steve surprised me by grabbing my hand and kissing my fingertips. “So am I going to see your thong again next weekend, doll, or do I have to wait until Date Number Three?”  
  
“This is not a date!” I retorted, removing my hand from his grip much more forcefully that necessary. I added under my breath, “And, with any luck, I will never see you again.”

I crossed the road and fumbled in my purse for my keys.  
  
“Are you going to be at any more weddings? How many have you been in, by the way? What’s the record number of weddings you’ve attended in one day?” he called after me, laughter still very much evident in his voice.

“Good night!” I turned and headed up the stairs to my apartment, confident that I’d seen the last of quite possibly the most annoying man I’d ever met.


	2. Daydream Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve thinks that he’s found the story of a lifetime, while you believe that your boss may finally be seeing you the way you’ve always hoped he would.

Steve headed into the offices of the New York Journal, coffee in hand.  
  
“Hey, punk! Did you catch the game on the weekend?” His best friend, Bucky Barnes, caught up with him in the lift, munching on a doughnut.

“No, jerk. I work on Saturdays, remember?”

“Oh, right. You spent the night eating coconut cake and dancing the Macarena. So, how did it go?” Bucky smirked at him.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Let me see. The bride’s gown sparkled like the tears in the groom’s eyes as he saw his beloved gliding gracefully towards him in a shower of rose petals.”  
  
“How the hell are you not getting laid?” Bucky followed Steve into his office. “The ‘Commitments’ page is the gold standard of wedding announcements. I can guarantee you that every single woman in New York tears that sucker out of the Sunday paper before anything else. Do you have any idea of what you could be doing?”  
  
Steve stared at his friend. “You mean to women who are about to get married?”  
  
“Exactly! They won’t call you, they sure as shit won’t expect you to call them, you can fulfil all of their final fantasies before they throw the rest of their lives away. Man, you can’t beat that.”  
  
Steve shrugged. “Well, it’s not going to matter much longer. Because _this_ is my ticket out of ‘Commitments’ and into real journalism.” He held up a battered Filofax, practically bursting at the seams with newspaper clippings and photographs.

“Whatever, man. At least tell me you scored with one of the bridesmaids,” Bucky persisted.

“Later, jerk, I’ve got work to do.” Steve made a show of checking his emails, and his friend laughingly headed to his own desk before he could incur the wrath of their editor.

*******************************************

I met Maria outside of our office on Monday morning. She was dressed in a man’s shirt and a pair of leggings, hair completely dishevelled, and looked as if she had spent the entire weekend being thoroughly fucked. Which she probably had. I noticed that she was carrying her bridesmaids dress in a plastic shopping bag.

I grinned knowingly at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I wasn’t going to do the walk of shame into work in my bridesmaids dress. Give me _some_ credit.”

I laughed as I held the door open for her. “As long as you had fun. How is Pietro, by the way?”  
  
Maria ignored my question. “So what happened to you the other night? I hardly saw you and then you disappeared after the bouquet toss.” She stopped and stared at me hopefully. “Did you meet someone?”  
  
“No, of course not,” I huffed.  
  
“It’s not an entirely stupid question. Weddings are great for picking up guys.”

I pretended not to hear her as I walked to the reception desk. “Hey Darcy! Have you seen my Filofax? I can’t find it anywhere. I thought I might have left it in my office.”  
  
“No, it’s not there. I’m pretty sure I saw you leave with it on Friday night,” Darcy shrugged.  
  
“OK, I’m sure it will turn up. Oh, did you get those brochure layouts for Clint? He wanted them first thing this morning.”  
  
“Nope, sorry.” Darcy Lewis is many things, but efficient is not one of them.

I sighed. “All right, I’ll get them from Marketing.”

As we walked away, Maria sneered. “That’s right, you show her who’s boss.”  
  
“I’m not the boss, Maria.”  
  
“No, you’re just the boss’s assistant, which is pretty much the same thing around here. What’s the point of having that position if you can’t abuse the power that comes with it?”  
  
“Aren’t you needed in Accounting?” I asked pointedly.

She rolled her eyes. “ _Now_ you’re bossy.”

I headed into my office and practically turned it upside down looking for my Filofax, which was absolutely nowhere to be found. I sighed. Where the hell had I misplaced it? I racked my brain, trying to think of where I might have left it.

*******************************************

Steve dumped the Filofax on the desk of his editor, Pepper Potts. “ _This_ is a great front page for the section. I’m telling you, Pepper, this is it.”  
  
Pepper sighed. “Seriously, Rogers, how many times do we have to have this conversation? Nobody cares about price fixing in the wedding cake industry, or the exploitation of the workers in lace factories. They want fun, upbeat, human interest stories. This section practically pays for the entire newspaper. Our advertisers pay _your_ salary, so you need to give them what they want.”

“Pepper, this is a great idea.” Steve picked up the Filofax, rummaging through the pages. “The woman who owns this has been in seven weddings. _This year._ She was in _two_ on Saturday night.”

Pepper quirked a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, indicating that he should continue. “The story won’t just be about her, though. It will be about how the entire wedding industry has turned something that is meant to be a loving, respectful rite of passage into a cynical, overpriced revenue raiser.”  
  
Pepper continued to stare at him.

“In a fun, upbeat sort of way,” he finished lamely. “Look, Pepper, this is a _real_ story. This is what I want to do. If I have to write one more sentence about taffeta and babies’ breath, I’m going to jump out of a plane without a parachute.”  
  
“I need you covering weddings, Steve. That’s what you are good at, so that’s what I want you to do.”  
  
Steve shrugged. “All right, well then I guess I’ll find a paper that will let me do the kind of stories I want to do.”

Pepper narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine. One chance, and one chance only. If I don’t like what you’ve written, you will spend the rest of your life writing the ‘Commitments’ section with a smile on that ridiculously handsome face of yours.”

“Thank you, Pepper. You won’t regret this.”  
  
“Make sure I don’t.”

*******************************************

I frowned at the layouts that Marketing had provided for me. “Do you think he’ll like these?”  
  
“Yes, Y/N. I think these pictures for the fall catalogue will finally make Clint realise that he’s madly in love with you, causing him to ravage you on his desk while the rest of the office watches,” Maria snarked.

I hit her with the photos, glaring at her.

She returned my glare with one of her own. “Please tell me that your stupid crush on Clint is the only reason that you work as hard as you do, because otherwise it’s just going to upset me.”  
  
“I love my job, Maria. That’s all,” I replied primly.

“No, you just think that one day Clint is going to wake up and finally realise that he is desperately in love with you, and that he’s going to come in with some sweeping declaration of love…”

Maria stopped speaking, staring in amazement at the enormous bunch of flowers that the delivery man brought into the office. “Delivery for Y/N Coulson?”

“That’s me,” I said, grabbing the arrangement and inspecting it with delight. It was a stunning bouquet of roses, lilies and bluebells, and I quickly found a vase and popped them in some water.

“Well, that’s gratitude for you. I spend the entire weekend in bed with Pietro, and _you’re_ the one that gets flowers,” Maria whined.

“There’s no note,” I said.

Maria looked at me pityingly. “Oh, no. Y/N, please don’t tell me that you think these are actually from the man of your dreams.”

I hit Maria again. “Will you shut up? Nobody knows how I feel about Clint.”  
  
“Honey, _everybody_ knows how you feel about Clint. Except for Clint.”  
  
“It’s true,” Darcy confirmed as she walked past the office.

I was spared the indignity of having to reply by suddenly being attacked by a hairy ball of fluff. “Lucky! How’s my favourite boy? Who’s the best boy in the whole world? It’s you, yes it is!” I hugged the one-eyed mutt affectionately as he gave me slobbery dog kisses.

“Hey, Lucky! No slobbering all over the ladies,” our boss, Clint Barton, called with a grin. “And I thought I was your favourite, Y/N.”

I stood up hastily, keeping a hand on Lucky’s head. He sulks if he doesn’t get continual pats. “Morning, Clint! How was your hike?” I could feel Maria rolling her eyes at the back of my head.  
  
“Great! Up and back in ten hours. My best time yet.”  
  
“Well done! I mean, it’s like the eighth time you’ve done that hike, so it only stands to reason that your time would improve.”  
  
Clint threw an impressed look at me. “How do you know how many times I’ve climbed Mount Avenger?”  
  
I shrugged, too embarrassed to admit that I pretty much stalked my boss’s every movement. Turning his attention to the advertising layout, I asked his opinion of the photos for the catalogue.

“Too corporate. They’re a bit too…”  
  
“Clinical, I agree,” I finished. “Too polished, too model-like. I’ll get Marketing to arrange something a bit more natural.”  
  
“Thanks, Y/N. That’s why you’re the best. Nobody else can finish my sentences for me. It’s like you know exactly what I’m thinking before I think it,” Clint said.

“Your design meeting is at ten, and Stark Industries called to inquire as to whether you would be attending their benefit this year. Should I tell them yes?”  
  
Clint groaned. “Do I have to make a speech?”  
  
“Just a few words about ecologically responsible business practices. Nothing fancy. Short and sweet. Two minutes max,” I assured him.

“All right, put it in my calendar. I guess I’d better start looking for a date to go with me, huh?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.” My heart hammered wildly in my chest.

“At least that’s the one thing you don’t have to do for me,” Clint said, ruffling my hair affectionately as he headed into his office.

I sighed as I headed back to my office. I looked up in surprise as Clint popped his head through the doorway. “Hey, Y/N, did you put that breakfast burrito on my desk?”  
  
I shrugged. “I just thought you might be hungry.”  
  
He grinned at me. “That’s why I love you, Y/N.” He sighed happily as he walked back to his desk.  
  
“I love you, too,” I whispered. Maria came up and slapped me. “Ow! No, you’re right, I needed that. Thanks, Maria.”  
  
“What are friends for, if not to smack the stupid out of you?”

*******************************************

As we left work for the day, Darcy reminded everyone of her engagement party that night. “I hope to see you all there! Oh, and Y/N, thanks again for arranging everything!”  
  
“No problem, Darcy. Good night.”  
  
Maria nudged my shoulder with hers. “Do you want to come over before the party tonight? A couple of the guys from Advertising are bringing over tequila and bubble wrap.”

“As much fun as that sounds, I can’t. I need to pick up Nat from the airport.”  
  
“Hmmm, wouldn’t it be great if there was a service that you could use to do that for you? Like a yellow car with a guy who can barely drive and who yells at you for not liking the right baseball team?” Maria asked sarcastically. To say that she is not a fan of my sister would be an understatement.  
  
“Shut up. She’s my little sister, I’m glad to help her out. Besides, she needs me.”  
  
Maria rolled her eyes. “Well, have fun with the she-devil. I’ll see you later.”  
  
*******************************************

I waved enthusiastically as Natasha gracefully waltzed into the arrivals lounge at JFK. I hugged her ecstatically, and she returned my embrace. I lifted an eyebrow at the small handbag she held. “Since when did you start travelling so lightly?”  
  
She had the good grace to look slightly guilty as she pointed at the young man hauling an enormous amount of luggage. “I always meet the nicest people on planes,” she smirked.

That’s the Natasha Romanoff I know. She uses our mother’s maiden name for her modelling work. Nat hasn’t officially been a Coulson since she was fifteen.

“I’m not sure my apartment is big enough for all of your stuff,” I said with a laugh.

We somehow managed to squeeze all of Nat’s luggage into my car, and made the drive back to my apartment, chatting the entire time.

“It’s so good to be back in New York. Six months away feels like a lifetime,” Nat said as she flopped on my couch. She noticed the framed wedding photo of our parents, smiling softly as she picked it up. “Mom was my age when they got married.”

“Yeah. They had the perfect day. The sunset ceremony, the reception at the boathouse, the big band playing…”

Natasha grimaced. “Yes, but that dress is horrid. I mean, bell sleeves and crocheted lace? What was Mom thinking?”

I took the photo back from her and ran a loving finger over it. “I think she looked beautiful.”  
  
“They loved each other so much. I hope one day I find someone that makes me that happy,” she said.

I gave her a one-armed hug. “You will. We both will.”

Nat grinned as she picked up some newspaper clippings. “What on earth are these? Are these _wedding announcements?”_ she shrieked with glee.

I snatched them out of her hands. “Give me those! I was going to recycle them.”  
  
My sister snorted. “Into what, wallpaper?”  
  
I shook my head at her teasing. “I only keep the ones by this one guy, Steven Grant. He writes the best ones. I love the way he writes about the proposals, the engagements…”

I noticed Nat’s bored expression. “…and you are totally not interested so I’m not going to say anything else. So, how long are you staying?”  
  
Nat shrugged. “Only a couple of weeks, I guess. The fall fashion shows are all done and I don’t have any new work lined up just yet.”

“Oh, speaking of work, I have an engagement party for one of my colleagues tonight. You’re welcome to come with me if you want.”

My sister shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m having drinks with some friends from Milan.”  
  
“All right, well I’ll leave you the address in case you change your mind.” I headed into my room to get changed, leaving Nat perusing a fashion magazine.


	3. Welcome To My Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your sister catches Clint’s eye, and just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, you find yourself once again in the company of the one person you hoped never to see again.

I stood with Maria at the edge of the dance floor, drinks in hand. She nodded with approval at my vintage inspired dress. “You look gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

Darcy threw her arms around Clint, planting a huge noisy kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for the gorgeous gift, boss!”  
  
“No problem, Darcy,” he beamed. She skipped off happily to join her fiancé, Wade Wilson. Clint came over, a questioning look on his gaze. “So, what did I get Darcy for her engagement present?”  
  
“A set of champagne glasses and a bottle of Cristal,” I replied.  
  
“Do you think she really believes that it’s actually from me?”  
  
“Sure. I wrapped it to look like a car ran over it and then it got chewed on by Lucky,” I grinned.

“Excellent!” He laughed. “Hey, Y/N, did you get that thing that I left on your desk this morning?”  
  
“The thing?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s just that I’ve never given you that sort of thing to you before, so I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t crossing any boundaries.”  
  
My brain froze. Was he talking about… “Sure! It was fine! Absolutely perfect!”  
  
Clint gave me a strange look, then shrugged. “I’m going to head over to the bar, do either of you ladies need a drink?”  
  
“I’m good, thanks Clint.” He headed off to get himself a drink.  
  
Maria smacked my arm. “Y/N, how many times do I have to go through this with you? If a guy asks you if you want a drink, you smile and say yes. If you already _have_ a drink, you chug it down and ask for another. A few drinks, a bit of flirting, some drunk sex and then BOOM! Accidental pregnancy, a shotgun wedding and a lifetime of bliss based on lies and manipulation.”

I stared at Clint while he was at the bar. “Maria, I am not going to get drunk and have sex with Clint. I don’t want him thinking I’m irresponsible.”  
  
Maria rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, because _that’s_ what guys want. A girl who is sensible.”  
  
“Clint appreciates me for me.”  
  
She snorted into her vodka soda. “What good is being appreciated if nobody is naked?”

I turned to her as I realised something. “Did you hear what he said, Maria? He left something on my desk. What did I get this morning?”  
  
Maria gave me an incredulous look. “Oh, no, honey. You don’t seriously believe that _Clint_ sent you those flowers, do you?”

“Who else would they be from, Maria? He sent me flowers. Clint sent me flowers to show how much he appreciates everything I do for him!”

Maria turned serious, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking me in the eyes. “Look, Y/N, it is now or never. Clint is at the bar. If you go up and ask him for a drink, you will have his undivided attention. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Go up there and tell the man how you feel. Seize the day. Carpe diem and all that.”

She shoved me in the direction of the bar, and so I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and then stared in horror before I took a step further.

Clint’s attention was drawn away from the bar towards the entrance of the club, because who should appear at that exact instant but my sister, Natasha, looking as supermodel beautiful as ever in a short green lace dress, her hair professionally fluffed to look effortlessly windblown.

Clint and Natasha locked eyes and walked towards each other, ignoring everyone else around them. Myself included. As they stood staring into each other’s eyes, I finally managed to move my feet and stumbled towards them in a daze.

Nat’s eyes flicked towards me in annoyance. “Y/N?”  
  
“Oh! Clint, this is my sister, Natasha. Natasha, this is my Clint. I mean, he’s not _my_ Clint, what I meant was…”

Clint chuckled. “Y/N is my assistant. My right hand man, so to speak.”  
  
“Lucky her,” Nat simpered.

“Yeah, whatever needs doing, she does it. And as if I don’t take enough advantage of her, this morning I left my dry cleaning receipt on her desk.”

I mentally slapped myself. His _dry cleaning_. Clint had left his dry cleaning receipt on my desk. Not flowers. God, I am so stupid!

“Do you want to get a drink?” Clint asked Nat, who nodded and grabbed his arm.

I stared after the pair of them in shock, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Whirling around, I found myself staring at a broad chest. My eyes travelled upwards, and I was suddenly looking into the bright blue eyes of Steve the Wedding Hater.

“Hey, Doll, I’m glad I found you here. Were the flowers too much?”

I looked at him in disbelief. “They were from you?”

He nodded. “Yep.”  
  
“ _You_ sent them? The angry marriage hater sent a bunch of flowers to a woman he doesn’t know? Wow, this day just gets better and better.” I handed him my drink. “Can you hold this for one moment, please, Steve?”  
  
“Sure thing, Doll.”  
  
I raced out the emergency exit to the laneway at the back of the club, and screamed in frustration. _“Motherfucker!”_  
  
A string of obscenities left my lips as I hit the wall repeatedly with my clutch, cursing my sister and my boss and the current bane of my existence. A pair of sweet little old ladies were walking past, and huffed in offense at my unladylike language, to which I hastily apologised.

I headed back inside, noting that Steve wore an extremely amused look on his face. I grabbed my drink back from him. “Sorry about that. What were you saying before I excused myself?” I asked demurely.  
  
“I just asked if you got my flowers. Oh! And I wanted to return this to you.” He held my Filofax in his hands.

I snatched it from him, hugging it to my chest in relief. “Oh, thank God! I thought I’d lost it.”  
  
“Yeah, you left it in the cab the other night, so I thought I’d better bring it back for you. It was either tonight’s party or your bikini wax appointment on Thursday, so here I am.” He grinned at me expectantly.

“You read my Filofax?” I asked in outrage.

“Well, I attempted to. The colour-coded sticky notes were a nice touch but I had a hard time deciphering a lot of it. You know, nowadays they have these new-fangled electronic devices that take care of all of that stuff for you.”  
  
“Thanks, but I don’t need to be taken care of.” I started to walk off, but Steve grabbed my hand.  
  
“Fine, but why don’t you stay? Have a drink with me?” His blue eyes looked at me beseechingly.

I glanced towards the bar and noticed Clint and Nat looking very cosy. I glared at them, and turned that glare onto the hapless man before me. “Sorry, but no. I wouldn’t be very good company tonight. Thanks anyway.”

Steve shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Maybe I’ll see you on Thursday after your bikini wax?” He winked at me, then laughed as he left.  
  
I stared after him, unamused. Maria came up to me, her face alight. “Who was that and where can I find one? Is he coming back? Does he have a friend? If you’re done with him, can I have him?”  
  
“He’s all yours, Maria.” I headed over to the bar and tapped Nat on the shoulder. “Hey, sis, it’s late. You must be exhausted. We should head home.”  
  
“I’m not tired.” Natasha grabbed Clint’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance!”  
  
“Oh, Clint doesn’t dance,” I protested.

Clint nodded at Nat. “Sure, I’ll give it a go. I have to warn you though, I’m pretty terrible. Last time I tried to dance, Y/N had to call the paramedics.”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad.” Nat dragged him onto the dancefloor, where they immediately proceeded to dirty dance as if nobody else was around them.

Groaning in disgust, I headed home alone.

*******************************************

It was 3am, and there was absolutely no sign of Natasha. I frowned at the clock. Maybe she’d been in an accident. Maybe she’d been hit by a bus. I sat up suddenly in bed. _Maybe she’d been hit by TWO buses._

Naturally, I felt horrible for wishing anything terrible had happened to my baby sister, so I punished myself by cleaning the apartment from top to bottom.

I was scrubbing the stove when Nat finally waltzed into the apartment at 5am. “Oh, you’re home!”  
  
She smiled dreamily. “I had the best time with Clint. He’s so lovely.”  
  
“Yeah, he is,” I agreed softly.  
  
Nat looked at me with concern on her beautiful face. “Is it weird for you that I hit it off with your boss?”  
  
I snorted derisively. “Pfft, no, of course not! Why would it be weird? I think it’s great!”  
  
“Good, because we’re having lunch tomorrow.”  
  
I hit my head on the cupboard as I stood up. “OW - I mean, Wow! That’s terrific, Nat!”

She leaned over the back of the couch, eyes bright. “So tell me all about Clint. I want to know everything there is to know about him.”

“Well, what can I say? He dropped out of college and literally ran away to join the circus, then after a few years he decided to climb every major peak in the world, then he started Hawkeye Consulting from his apartment before turning it into one of the most ecofriendly, philanthropic businesses in the entire world all before he was thirty.” I sighed dreamily.

“Wow,” Nat said.

“That’s just his resume. He is a great boss. We all love him… love working for him, I mean!” I amended hastily. “He has the coolest dog in the world, Lucky; he’s only got one eye and Clint adopted him from the pound. Um, he’s mostly vegetarian, although he thinks pizza is its own food group, and he mainlines caffeine. He loves the outdoors and he teaches archery in his spare time. He was good enough to qualify for the Olympics in his early twenties.”  
  
“He sounds amazing,” Nat swooned.  
  
I frowned, trying to rack my brains for a way to destroy my sister’s unhealthy interest in my boss. “Yeah, but he has flaws. Like, he picks his nose and eats it, which is just gross. And sometimes he wears shoes without socks, which I think is extremely unhygienic. And one time, I heard him say he doesn’t like chocolate. That’s not normal.”  
  
Nat snorted. “Well, those are hardly deal breakers. Believe me, I’ve dated worse.”  
  
“Deal breakers? Who’s talking deals? You just met him, it’s not like anything happened between the two of you.”  
  
“Well, actually…” Nat blushed.

My heart dropped.

“Natasha! You sly dog. Nice one,” I congratulated her, even though my soul felt as if it had been ripped out of me. My sister had just slept with the man I was in love with.

I had never felt so betrayed in my life.

*******************************************

I walked into Coulson’s Hardware, the store that my father still owned. “Dad? Look what I found outside.”  
  
His face lit up when he saw his youngest daughter trailing behind me. “Natasha! It’s good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home, Dad.” She ran into Dad’s arms, eagerly returning his embrace.  
  
“Come on upstairs, you’re just in time for breakfast.” Dad led us upstairs to the home we’d grown up in. Ten minutes later, a huge pile of blueberry pancakes sat on the dining table in front of us, and the three of us tucked in eagerly.

“So, Nat, how long are you home for this time?” Dad asked.  
  
Nat stared at her plate uncertainly.

“You said one to two weeks, tops, didn’t you?” I reminded her, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Um, actually, it depends on how a few things pan out,” Nat said.  
  
“Things? What things?” I asked in consternation.

Before she could answer, her phone rang. Her face lit up when she saw the caller ID. “Hello? Hey, baby, how are you? No, I’m not busy, of course I can talk.” She excused herself from the table and headed into the living room, talking in hushed tones.

Dad looked at me. “Let me guess. She’s got some new guy chasing after her.”  
  
“I wouldn’t call it _chasing._ ” I stabbed my pancake with more force than was strictly necessary.

Dad stared at me with concern. “Y/N, sweetie, are you alright?”  
  
I nodded. “Yeah, Dad. I’m fine,” I lied.

I tried desperately to drown out the girly giggles coming from the other room. The sooner Natasha returned to Europe, the sooner my life would return to normal.


	4. Shattered Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint become closer, and you discover that things can actually get much, much worse than you ever imagined.

I did my best to ignore the sight of my sister draped over Clint’s desk, her short black dress showing off her ridiculously long legs. Clint, of course, thought she looked wonderful. I tried not to gag when they started making out in his office. Really, did Clint forget that there was such a thing as professionalism? What kind of example was that setting for the rest of our staff?

I scanned through my Filofax for my weekend appointments, frowning as I noticed that a page was missing. On the next page, the name ‘Steve Rogers’ was written in large block letters, together with a phone number, in black Sharpie. Flicking through the rest of my Filofax, I noticed that the same thing had been written on every single page.

What the actual fuck?

*******************************************

Steve and Bucky headed back to the office, Starbucks in hand. “I’m telling you, Buck, she’s going to call me. I can guarantee it. I have a way of making the ladies reach out to me.”

Bucky snorted. “Since when? You are hopeless with women.”  
  
“Twenty bucks says she calls me,” Steve said with absolute certainty.  
  
“You’re on, punk.”

Steve grinned in triumph as his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“You ripped an entire page out of my planner? Are you insane?” The outraged tone carried down the line clearly enough for Bucky to hear.  
  
“It’s an experiment to see if you can manage to live your life without every single second of it being planned out for you. And can I just say, Doll, that _your_ life is insane. What do you do with your time besides run around after your boss and help people get married?”

“You know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. My life is none of your business,” came the huffy response.

Steve laughed. “How do you afford all of these weddings, anyway? The airfares, the dresses, the Wine of the Month Club…”  
  
“I’ve built up enough frequent flyer points with the amount of travel that I do. And people _love_ the Wine of the Month Club. I’m a life-time member. Every Christmas they give me a free case of champagne.”  
  
“Nice,” Steve said sarcastically. “I apologise for ripping up your date book. How about I make it up to you? Say, a new date book or… maybe just a date?”

Bucky stared at his friend in open-mouthed admiration as he handed over a twenty dollar bill.

“Sure, let me see when I can pencil you in. Oh, look, you’ve already done that. Every single fucking Saturday for the rest of the year!”

“So I’ll see you this Saturday, then, Doll?” he smirked.

“No way, Rogers. Can you please find someone else to annoy?”  
  
“Nope, I’m having way too much fun with you. Listen, Y/N, any time you want to hang around with someone who doesn’t need you to attend a cake tasting or a dress fitting or a mani-pedi, you give me a call.”

He could hear the eye roll on the other end of the line. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen. Goodbye, Rogers.”  
  
“Later, Doll.” He hung up, a huge grin lighting up his face. “Told ya she’d call.”  
  
Bucky shook his head. “I heard it, punk, but I still don’t believe it.”

Steve laughed as they headed into the office.

*******************************************

I thunked my head on my desk in frustration. Why is God punishing me? What did I do to deserve this kind of torment? Why did my sister have to come by the club last night? Why did my boss instantly fall under her spell the same as every other man who met her? Most importantly, why is Steve Rogers, the man who apparently hates romance, stalking me?  
  
A tentative knock sounded on my office door. I looked up, my mood instantly brightening. Peter Parker stood in front of me. He is one of my favourite people in the world, despite only being twelve years old.

“Peter! How are you, sweetie?” I stood up to greet him.  
  
“Great!” The curly haired lad came and stood in front of me.  
  
I looked at him with concern. “Are you getting too old for hugs?”  
  
“Not from you,” he said.  
  
“Good!” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, pressing a kiss to his hair. He hugged me back just as tightly.

Clint strode into my office. “There he is! How ya doin’, Pete?” He gave Peter a huge hug of his own, which Peter eagerly returned. Turning to Nat, Clint said, “Peter is my little brother.”  
  
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Nat frowned in confusion. She looked almost offended at the idea of Clint having a brother nearly thirty years younger than him.

“Oh, he’s not my actual brother. It’s part of the Big Brother, Little Brother program,” Clint clarified. “Pete, Natasha is Y/N’s sister.”  
  
“Really?” Peter looked from me to Nat and back again, clearly wondering why I was not as genetically blessed as my younger sibling.

“Y/N, Nat and I are going to take Peter to his baseball game. You want to join us?”  
  
I shook my head. “I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should stay and get all this stuff done.”  
  
Clint mock-glared at me. “Are you kidding me right now? Your boss is a jerk, take the rest of the day off before he fires you. Come on.”  
  
I gave in without too much argument. Peter’s baseball games are always good fun. Clint and I love being on the Peter Parker cheer squad.

“Alright, let’s go!” Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand, and I tried to find comfort in the fact that Peter held mine.

*******************************************

We walked to the concession stand as Peter headed to the dugout. Clint dug out his wallet as he ordered. “Can we get three diet sodas, cheese fries, um…”  
  
“Chilli dog!” I said enthusiastically. “Do you want a chilli dog, Nat?”  
  
She shook her head with disgust. “Oh, no! I don’t eat meat.”  
  
Clint raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re vegetarian?” he asked, apparently impressed when she nodded fervently.

I snorted. “Since when?”  
  
“Oh, it’s recent,” she admitted. I’ll say. She’d converted from a dedicated carnivore to a plant-loving hippy in less than twenty-four hours.

“I’m vegetarian, too!” Clint exclaimed. “But I pretty much just live on pizza, so it’s pretty easy to stick to it.”  
  
Natasha laughed a tinkly little laugh which immediately set my teeth on edge. I’d never seen her go to this much effort to impress a guy before. Usually all she had to do was smile and bat her eyelashes to get them eating out of the palm of her hand.

We sat on the bleachers, and Nat spun tall tales of how much she enjoyed hiking and all sorts of outdoorsy stuff, which is odd considering the only time she enjoys being outdoors is if it involves a beach and an alcoholic beverage. Clint lapped it all up, expressing his disbelief that such a beautiful creature would ever exert herself physically. She assured him that she loved being at one with nature.

“But you know, I haven’t really enjoyed hiking ever since Sunny died. It just hasn’t been the same,” she said sadly.  
  
“Who’s Sunny?” Clint queried.

“Our dog. We used to go hiking and climbing and go on all sorts of adventures together. But ever since he died, I just haven’t had the heart to do that sort of thing without him. I miss him so much.”  
  
“Hey, Y/N, how come you never told me about Sunny?”  
  
I shrugged. “Gee, I don’t know. I guess I suppressed all memory of _Sandy._ ”

Nat glared at me briefly before turning her attention back to Clint. “Well, yes, his name was Sandy but I couldn’t say that properly so I used to call him Sunny.”

Peter turned to look at the bleachers, throwing a cheeky wink in our direction. I had absolutely no doubt that this was meant for Natasha. Peter never winked at me. Clint headed down to give Peter some advice, and I turned to Nat immediately. “What are you doing, Nat?”  
  
“What are you talking about?” she asked innocently.  
  
“You hate dogs and vegetables and being outdoors.”  
  
“No, I don’t! I like yachts, and tanning, and flowers. It’s not _exactly_ the same as Clint, but…”  
  
“And you hated Sandy,” I reminded her. “You hated him. The only animals _you_ love are the ones that have been turned into fur coats, Cruella De Vil. You’re only saying all of this stuff to try and impress Clint because he’s so… so… gorgeous.” I angrily munched on a cheese fry, chewing with far more aggression than was warranted.

Nat glared at me again. “You don’t know that I don’t like all of that sort of stuff. I _might_ like them if I tried them. Maybe.”

Clint called Nat to join him at the dugout, and she eagerly ran towards him, as fast as her stilettos could carry her. I valiantly tried to ignore the way he held her as he tried to show her how to hold the baseball bat.  
  
Man, I really wanted to swing that bat myself. Only it wasn’t a baseball that I wanted to hit.

Maria would be proud of my homicidal tendencies.

*******************************************

The next two weeks were a nightmare.

My apartment was beginning to look like a florist shop. Clint sent Natasha a new bouquet every other day. I’d run out of vases and glasses to put them in. It was lucky I didn’t have allergies.

Every time I tried to talk to Clint at the office, he was always on the phone to Nat. He joked and laughed and completely ignored me. It was worse than when he used to just take me for granted. It was as if I was no longer visible, almost as if some giant purple space raisin had snapped his fingers and erased my existence completely.

Of course, Nat invited Clint to family dinner and Dad was ecstatic. Clint is down to earth, modest and laughs at his own jokes, so naturally Dad loved him. He had never really liked any of Nat’s previous boyfriends, feeling that they only liked her because of her looks, but he seemed to believe that Clint’s feelings for my sister were genuine. Knowing Clint, they absolutely were. Clint couldn’t lie to save himself.

I was also beginning to feel like a stranger in my own home. Whenever I got home, I would inevitably find Nat and Clint on my couch, wrestling with their tongues. It was getting to the point where I would rather be anywhere than my apartment, just so I could be away from them.

But the absolute worst was when I was a bridesmaid at Darcy and Wade’s wedding – in goth gear, naturally – when I looked over to find Clint and Nat passionately locking lips during the ceremony. I must not have hidden my disgust very well, because Maria noticed my expression and followed my horrified gaze. She started gagging, not very subtly.

Once again, Natasha was getting everything that I had ever wanted, and I was left on the sidelines.

At this rate, I was going to be a crazy cat lady before I was thirty.

*******************************************

Clint stood in front of me, a helpless, kicked puppy look on his face. “Be honest, Y/N. Which one of these things sucks less?”  
  
I examined the two ties that he held up for my inspection, and after some consideration decided on the purple one. Of course, because Clint is completely hopeless at that sort of thing, I had to tie it for him. Windsor knots are beyond the poor man.

“Is everything all right, Clint? You seem nervous,” I said as I smoothed his collar.

“Sure, everything’s fine. Just looking forward to dinner with Nat, is all.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a sure sign that he was one hundred percent terrified about something. I’m not sure why. I mean, Natasha _looks_ like she could kill you a thousand different ways with a paper clip, but she’s actually completely harmless. A total maneater, but not dangerous in any way.

After once again assuring me that everything was fine, Clint left the office, which strangely gave me a sense of relief. I’d found it a bit awkward being around him recently, given his situation with my sister. As I tidied up his desk, I noticed that he’d left his wallet behind.

Typical Clint. He’d forget his head if it wasn’t screwed on.

I grabbed a cab and raced to the Italian restaurant where I knew Clint was waiting, and hurried inside to give him the wallet. As I entered the restaurant, I noticed immediately that it was empty, which was unusual given that it was a Friday night. It was normally jam-packed.

Rose petals were strewn across the floor, soft candlelight filled the room, and a string quartet started playing a romantic tune. Two waitstaff wore huge grins as they unfurled a large banner emblazoned with the words “Will You Marry Me?”  
  
My brain stopped working at that point.

“Woah, sorry guys! It’s not her! Wrong girl!” Clint cried out as he hurried over to me. “Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?”

I shook myself out of my daze. “Sorry! I should have called you first, but you left your wallet on your desk and I thought you’d probably need it.”  
  
He gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best. What would I do without you?”  
  
What indeed.

Suddenly Nat ran in, slightly breathless. “I’m sorry I’m late!”

“Now, guys, now!” Clint snapped his fingers and the band started playing again, and the waiters once again unfurled the banner.

Natasha looked at me in confusion. “Y/N, what’s going on?”  
  
Clint asked Nat to sit down, which she dutifully did. He whistled, and Lucky came out with something tied to his collar. Clint bent down and undid the ribbon, and then knelt in front of Nat. “Natasha, my parents met when they were kids in the circus, and they were married for nearly forty years. I’ve waited my whole life to find someone that I could love as much as my dad loves my mom, and I’ve finally found that in you. The second I saw you, I knew that you were the one. So, Natasha, will you marry me?”  
  
Nat broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. “Of course I will, Clint! I love you so much!”  
  
My heart shattered into a million pieces when I saw Clint slip the huge solitaire diamond onto my sister’s finger, and they kissed passionately, ignoring everyone and everything around them.

I’d worked for Clint for over five years and the most I ever got from him was a ticket to a hockey game, when he knows that I detest hockey and much prefer baseball.

Natasha had known him for five minutes and he was proposing to her.

Life is so goddamned unfair.


	5. Confide In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself opening up to Steve about your feelings in regards to Natasha’s impending nuptials, as well as your hopes for the future.

Naturally, when Natasha showed Dad the engagement ring, he was stunned. But only momentarily. “Wait, does this mean that you’re staying in New York?”  
  
What the hell, Dad? You’re asking Natasha if she’s staying in New York, rather than why she’s getting engaged to a man she literally just met? If it was me in this situation, I can guarantee that the shotgun would have been brought out and Dad would have run whoever was stupid enough to propose to me after only two minutes right out of town.

But of course he’s happy for Nat. She’s always been the favourite.

“Well, Clint, I don’t what it is about you. First you give Y/N a job, and now you get Nat to move back home. You’re my hero, son.”

Jeez, Louise. Clint Barton, a superhero? Give me a break.  
  
Clint beamed. “Well, Phil, you have a couple of wonderful girls.” I rolled my eyes when he and Nat started making googly eyes at each other yet again.  
  
“Yes, I do. Oh! Wait right here, I’ve got something for you.” Dad shuffled out of the room, only to come back with a familiar looking outfit.

“Daddy! Is that…” Nat put her hands to her mouth, while I stared in dismay.

“Yep. Your mom’s wedding dress. She would have wanted you to have it.”

“Oh, Daddy! Thank you!” Natasha cried as she threw her arms around our father. Clint just looked at the two of them with a soft smile on his face.

Natasha noticed my crestfallen expression and immediately looked contrite. “Y/N! I know how much you love Mom’s wedding dress. You don’t mind though, do you? I mean, you can have it after me.”  
  
I shook my head vehemently and plastered a big smile on my face. “Of course I don’t mind! Dad’s right, Mom would have wanted you to have it.” I wrapped my arms around Nat and congratulated her.

Then I ran outside and made a phone call to the one person I never expected to speak to voluntarily.

*******************************************

Steve sat at the bar, looking at me with some confusion. “I’m not exactly sure why you decided to meet with me tonight, Doll. I mean, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now.”

“My little sister is getting married,” I blurted out.

“Before you?” he asked sympathetically.

“That’s not what I’m upset about,” I retorted.

“Then what are you upset about?” he asked, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to know the reason behind my unhappiness.

I sighed. “You don’t know Natasha. She’s going to expect me to do _everything_ for her. I won’t just be her maid of honour, I’m going to be expected to be her wedding planner too. I’ll be the one organising everything, running around making sure everything is absolutely perfect. I’m going to be the one that makes or breaks her wedding.”  
  
Steve stared at me with those deep blue eyes of his. God, his eyes were beautiful. “So why don’t you just tell her ‘No’?”  
  
I looked at him as if he was stupid. “What?”  
  
“Say ‘No’.” He looked at me sternly. “You _have_ said ‘No’ to other people before, haven’t you?”  
  
“I kept saying ‘No’ whenever you asked me to go out for a drink with you, didn’t I?”  
  
Steve snorted. “Besides me.”  
  
“Of course I’ve said ‘No’ to people! I say ‘No’ all the time, when the situation requires it. Yes… maybe… no, not really,” I admitted sheepishly. “Never. Not once. I’ve never said ‘No’ to anyone before.”  
  
He pointed a finger at me. “Aha! But you _do_ want to say ‘No’, don’t you?”  
  
“I _can’t_ say ‘No’ to her. She’s my sister.”

“Yes, you can! You can most certainly say ‘No’ to your sister.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Alright, you’re going to practice saying ‘No’.”  
  
I quirked an eyebrow at him. He continued. “You think I’m joking, Doll? You need to learn how to say ‘No’. Turn around and face me.”  
  
I immediately complied, causing him to frown. “See, you’ve already failed. You should have said, ‘Fuck you, Rogers’ and continued to throw sarcastic comments at me like you’ve done from the moment I met you.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. He shook his head. “Alright, Doll. Let’s try again. We’re going to play a little game. Y/N, lend me fifty bucks.”  
  
I immediately said, “No,” to which Steve gave me what can only be described as Eyebrows of Disappointment.

“Y/N, it’s only fifty bucks. I’ll pay you back.”  
  
“No,” I repeated, more forcefully.

Suddenly, Steve held one of my hands in his, rubbing his thumb gently along the back of my hand. It felt _really_ nice, and my brain nearly stopped working. He stared at me with the most amazing puppy dog eyes anyone has ever given me, and I could immediately feel my resolve starting to crumble.

“Y/N,” he purred almost seductively, “I need you to lend me fifty bucks.”  
  
“Noooooooo…?” I replied uncertainly.  
  
He stared at me for a heartbeat, and then shrugged, dropping my hand. “OK. Not bad.”

I felt my heart glow at the compliment.

Steve reached towards my glass. “Can I have your drink?”  
  
“Sure,” I replied, before my brain caught up with what had just happened. I cried, “No!” just as Steve took a large sip.  
  
“Oh, Doll, and you were doing so well,” he chuckled at me while I thunked my head on the bar.

When he offered to buy me another drink, I didn’t say ‘No’.

*******************************************

Natasha and I were walking through Central Park. She had been babbling non-stop about the wedding for the last twenty minutes. “So, you’ve been to the gift shop and organised the party favours?”  
  
I nodded, checking things off in my planner. “I’ve also made the invitation mock-ups and have made a booking for you to discuss what you want with the florist.”  
  
“This is so much fun!” Nat skipped along in front of me. Of course she thought it was fun. She wasn’t the one doing all of the work.

“Oh, did I tell you I asked Bobbi to be a bridesmaid?”

“Who?”  
  
Nat looked at me incredulously. “Our cousin, Bobbi Morse?”

“Oh right, the one who kept asking me if I was the president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. She made high school a living hell.”  
  
“Sorry, I know you don’t like Bobbi, but her aesthetic is perfect for the colour scheme I want.”

What a load of wank.

“And I want you to ask your friend to be the third bridesmaid. You know, the really rude one?”  
  
“Maria? _My_ Maria?”  
  
“Sure, she’s really pretty and she can pull off a strapless dress,” Nat shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t have many girlfriends. For some reason, girls don’t really like me very much.”

Yeah, that’s because most girls don’t appreciate being in the same room as a woman who completely overshadows everybody around her. Nobody likes being a wallflower, and it’s hard to be noticed whenever Natasha is nearby.

“And I was thinking that we could do a slide show for the rehearsal dinner. You know, lots of cute photos of Clint and me when we were kids, say funny things about us, that sort of thing.”

I tried to share Nat’s enthusiasm, but for once in my life I was not looking forward to a wedding.

“Oh! And you know that wedding writer you’re obsessed with? Steven Grant? He wants to write about our wedding for the ‘Commitments’ column in the New York Journal! He called me to ask if he could meet with Clint and me. Can you believe it?”

“Considering everything else that’s happened, I can most definitely believe it.” Natasha was completely oblivious to my sarcasm.  
  
“And I was thinking about what you said about how Mom and Dad’s wedding was perfect, and I want to try and have a wedding just like theirs. So…” She waved her arms expansively in front of her.

I noticed what she was pointing at, and my heart sank. “The boathouse?”  
  
Nat nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. At first when I rang them to book it they said nothing was available for eighteen months. Can you believe it? I was so furious. But they called me back yesterday and said that they had a last minute cancellation, so now we’re getting married in three weeks!”

I choked. _“Three weeks?”_

“Uh huh. But I know you can pull it off quickly, Y/N. If anybody can make my big day perfect at such short notice, it’s you. Besides, I don’t want to wait that long to be Mrs Clint Barton anyway.”

Nat noticed my distinct lack of enthusiasm and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You know, sis, you could try being a _little_ bit excited for me.”  
  
I shook my head. “I am, Nat! I am. It’s just…”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s just that _you_ wanted to get married in the boathouse, wearing Mom’s wedding dress. I know. I’m sorry you didn’t get to do it first.”  
  
She actually sounded sincere. I gave her a tight smile. “It’s fine, Nat. I just didn’t realise that you wanted that too. I want you to be happy, and if having a wedding just like Mom’s will do that, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Great! Now, let’s talk about more important things.” She looped her arm through mine and started chattering on about how the linens were wrong and that she wanted to change the entire colour scheme from what she’d previously decided, and that we’d have to ensure that the wedding cake had at least four tiers because her modelling nemesis only had three tiers for hers and Nat was determined to go one better.

*******************************************

The look Maria gave me when I told her about Nat’s engagement would have turned anybody else to dust. “That selfish whore! There is not a man in this world that won’t fall for her pelvic sorcery. Even a goody-two-shoes like Clint.”

I motioned for Maria to keep her voice down as the rest of our yoga class appeared to be getting annoyed, but she continued her rant without a care. “You cannot plan your sister’s wedding to the man you love. It’s sick.”  
  
“Well, to be fair, she doesn’t know how I feel about him,” I replied as I moved into downward dog. “Why would she? I mean, he’s my boss. I just need to get over it. And so do you.”

“Why do _I_ need to get over _my_ outrage?”  
  
“Because she wants you to be a bridesmaid,” I winced, waiting for Maria to punch me.  
  
“No! I’m _not_ being a bridesmaid for that Black Widow. I won’t do it. I refuse on principle,” Maria retorted.

“Please, Maria? Please do this for me? Don’t leave me alone to deal with this,” I begged.

She glared at me. “Fine,” she gritted out. “Fine, but only because it is you. I’m doing this for _you_ , not that harlot. But if she crosses me, I’m going to kick her ass. And then I’m going to kick _your_ ass for dragging me into this soap opera. And then I’m going to kick Clint’s ass for wanting to marry her in the first place.”

The yoga instructor hit the gong much more forcefully than necessary, and glared at both of us, thereby completely destroying all of the positive chi that she had spent the last twenty minutes cultivating.

“You know, there’s no sign that says ‘No talking’,” muttered Maria mutinously.

*******************************************

Nick Fury gave me a look which clearly suggested that I was completely insane. “Three weeks? You’re kidding me, right? Three weeks is not enough time for one of my creations.”

Nick Fury is the best wedding cake supplier in New York. His creations are epic. Naturally, he was the baker of choice for Natasha’s big day. Natasha always wants the best of everything, and Nick Fury is the best.

I stood with my hands on my hips. “Nick, remember when I brought you Hope van Dyne, and she commissioned that six-tiered heart-shaped masterpiece, topped with sugar swans for her wedding? And then there was Betty Ross and Bruce Banner’s Bollywood extravaganza a few weeks ago, and the Quill-Gamora wedding, and of course let’s not forget the edible replica of Stark Tower for Tony Stark’s New Year’s party last year. I’ve sent a _lot_ of business your way. You _can_ do this job, and you and I both know it.”  
  
He glared at me from his one good eye, his eyepatch covering the eye he’d lost in an accident when he was younger. I knew I’d won.

“So you are going to make this cake, and you are going to do it in three weeks, and I would like a discount, please.”

He sighed. “Three weeks? I’d be honoured.”  
  
“Thank you, Nick,” I smiled sweetly at him. Turning to Nat and Clint, I gave them the thumbs up.

“Yay! Thanks, Y/N!” Nat squealed, throwing her arms around my neck.

I heard sardonic applause sounding from the door of the bakery, and turned to find Steve Rogers standing there, grinning at me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He stepped forward, hand out in greeting as he headed towards Nat and Clint. “Hi, I’m Steven Grant, the wedding writer.”  
  
 _“What?”_ I squeaked.

“Oh, yes! I didn’t want to believe it until you were here!” Nat smiled, shaking Steve’s hand. “This is my fiancé, Clint.”  
  
Clint shook Steve’s hand also, while I stood there staring in confusion at the man I knew as Steve Rogers. He noticed my puzzled gaze and smirked at me.

Nat continued babbling. “This is my sister, Y/N. She is absolutely obsessed with you. She keeps all of your columns, but pretends that she doesn’t. I think she’s your number one fan. But not in a creepy way! More like a cute, quirky, insane sort of way.”

Steve’s smirk grew larger.

I moved to stand next to Nat. “You told me your name was Steve Rogers.”  
  
He looked apologetically at me. “Yeah, I use Grant for the bylines so I don’t get stalked by crazy brides. You know how it is. So Natasha, tell me how you met Clint.”

“You asshole,” I said.  
  
“Y/N!” Nat gasped.

“Sorry, he said his name was Steve Rogers. I’m just... I’m a little bit confused.”  
  
Nat looked between the two of us. “Wait, you two know each other?”  
  
Steve shrugged. “We both work the wedding circuit,” he deadpanned.  
  
Nat giggled, understanding that he was referencing the fact that I was basically a career bridesmaid at this point in my life.

“Sorry, Nat, could you excuse us for just one second? I just want to go over here and talk to Steve. About you.” I didn’t wait for her to answer as I grabbed Steve by his arm – digging my nails perhaps a little harder than necessary into his surprisingly spectacular biceps – and dragged him to a corner of the bakery. “You lied to me.”  
  
“No, I didn’t. I told you I was a writer. I just never told you what I wrote.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “But you write the most beautiful things. Do you actually believe in love and marriage and you just pretend to be a cynic around me, or are you actually a cynic who knows how to spin crap for gullible girls like me?”  
  
“I’m not sure I followed that entirely, but I think the second one? The spinning crap thing?”

“And your name. You told me it was Steve Rogers.”  
  
“It is. Grant is my middle name. I use it so people can’t harass me if they don’t like what I’ve written. My full name is Steven Grant Rogers.”  
  
I felt my shoulders deflate. “I feel like I just found out that my favourite love song was written about a Pop-tart.”

Nat came over to us. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away to talk about me and Clint?”  
  
Steve gave her a dazzling smile. “Of course you can. That’s why I’m here.”  
  
Nat led him over to Clint, and I left the bakery, unnoticed once again.

*******************************************

I was surprised by a knock on my door, as I wasn’t expecting company. Natasha had gone to spend the night with Clint – again – and so I was finally, blissfully alone.

I looked through the spyhole to find Steve Rogers standing there expectantly. Groaning, I said, “Go away. Nat’s not here.”  
  
“I’m actually here to see you, Doll.”

“Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“Well, I have to talk to all of the friends and family of the bride and groom, so…” His voice trailed off for a second. “It will only take five minutes. Please? For Clint and Nat?”  
  
Cheap shot. Damn it. The man knew my weak spot.

I threw the door open rather ungraciously, and glared at him.

“So, are you going to invite me in or…” Trust a vampire to ask for permission before entering the premises.  
  
“Just ask me what you want to ask me, then leave. Or would you prefer to lie to me some more?”  
  
He threw his hands up in protest. “I didn’t lie to you, Y/N. I might have left out some pertinent details, but I never lied.”  
  
I begrudgingly let him into my apartment. “Let’s just get this over with. I have things to do.”

Steve spoke into a recording device. “The maid of honour is a peculiar creature. So, tell me how you feel about Natasha’s whirlwind romance.”  
  
“I couldn’t be happier for her,” I said unconvincingly. “She’s my little sister. I taught her how to tell the time, how to braid her hair, how to steam fish in the dishwasher…”

Steve stopped listening to me in order to stare at my wardrobe. “What are those?”  
  
I followed his line of sight. “Nothing,” I replied warily.  
  
“Are those…” He headed over to my wardrobe, causing me to race from the kitchen to head him off before he could discover things I really did not want him discovering. “Doll, are these all _bridesmaid dresses?”_

“ _These_ are none of your business,” I hissed, trying to shove him out of the way. But because he’s got a good six inches on me and biceps designed for bench-pressing helicopters, he managed to wrench the door open.He stared at the contents of my wardrobe incredulously. “Oh. My. God. What the hell? You have a whole closet full of bridesmaid dresses. Why the hell have you kept all of them?”  
  
“I have a lot of friends, okay? And I like to keep them as a reminder.”

“Well, that makes perfect sense because these are all very… lovely,” he said diplomatically.

“Some of them are not that bad,” I replied haughtily.

Steve snorted. “Sure, Doll. I’d love to see just one of these that’s ‘not that bad’.” The finger quotes made me want to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“Alright.” I rummaged through the closet to find one of the more flattering dresses. I pulled out an [olive green number](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/9c/57/08/9c5708381bce9732a3bd33ddf86fa80d--wedding-movies-katherine-heigl.jpg) which had always been one of my favourites.

“Doll, it’s hideous. What colour even is that? It looks like baby puke.”

I gave him a withering look. “It’s olive green, and it actually looks great on.”

“On what? On fire?” Steve asked, clearly amused.  
  
“It’s not that bad,” I protested. “It’s very flattering.”  
  
“No. This is an instrument of torture deliberately chosen by a woman who wants you to look your absolute ugliest so that you don’t upstage her on her big day.”

“That is not true. Carol picked this so that it would look good on everybody.”  
  
Steve spoke into his recorder again. “The bridesmaid is slightly delusional and will believe anything that anybody tells her.”  
  
“That is not true and I’m going to prove it to you.” I stomped into my bedroom to change. Once I was in the gown, I threw him a triumphant glance. “See?”

He snapped a photo with his camera and showed it to me. “Sorry, Y/N. You’re right about the dress itself, it’s a flattering style, but the colour is absolutely awful.”  
  
I frowned as I examined the picture. “No, your flash has just washed out the colour.”  
  
“Trust me, Doll, it’s dreadful. You look like a shiny mermaid.”

I sagged in disbelief as I realised that he was right.

“You should be flattered, though. I mean, obviously the bride didn’t want to stand next to such a beautiful woman and have her looking even halfway decent.”  
  
I flushed. Nobody had ever called me beautiful before. Nat was the beautiful one. Clearly, Steve Rogers was delusional. Suddenly, I grinned.

“You know, this is not the worst dress I’ve worn. If I had to pick the contender for worst bridesmaid dress of all time…” My voice was muffled as I scoured through the wardrobe. “Ah ha!”

Steve gaped at the [shiny green monstrosity](https://imagesvc.meredithcorp.io/v3/mm/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic.onecms.io%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2Fsites%2F6%2F2018%2F01%2Fdress-grab-08-2000.jpg) in my hands. “What on earth is that?”

I hurriedly changed and threw my bedroom door open with a flourish.

Steve collapsed on the floor, laughing so hard that he grabbed his left pec. “Dear lord, it’s like 80s prom night threw up all over you!”

I grabbed another one, a number reminiscent of [Carmen Miranda](https://imagesvc.meredithcorp.io/v3/mm/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic.onecms.io%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2Fsites%2F6%2F2018%2F01%2Fshutterstock_editorial_5885647e_huge-2000.jpg), and Steve looked like he wanted to burn his eyes out. “I gotta ask, did that one come with a fruit basket for your head?”

I started doing a conga around my living room, causing tears of mirth to fall from Steve’s eyes.

I changed into another [frothy pink](https://imagesvc.meredithcorp.io/v3/mm/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic.onecms.io%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2Fsites%2F6%2F2018%2F01%2Fmcdtwse_fe035-2000.jpg) concoction, which Steve immediately declared made me look like the toilet roll holder his grandmother used to have in her bathroom.

He asked to pick the next dress I tried, and I cringed when he held up a miniscule piece of [neon-pink](https://live.staticflickr.com/5176/5400537428_b1c50e1044.jpg) fabric. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Dare I ask what the theme was for this one?”

“Vegas wedding.” I’d spent the entirety of _that_ wedding tugging at the hem of my dress to ensure that it covered my ass. “And what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”  
  
He inspected the scrap of material. “I’ve seen more coverage on a postage stamp.” Thankfully, he took pity and didn’t ask me to model that one for him.

I was actually having a great time as I tried on dress after dress, laughing with Steve about the terrible Gone with the Wind themed dress that I’d worn to three different weddings; the bright yellow number which made me look like a giant fluorescent canary; the cowgirl outfit; and the kimono for a friend’s Japanese themed wedding. Each dress was more hideous than the last, and I can’t remember having as much fun when I wore them as I was having right at this very moment.

Once I’d finished, he stared at me in stunned bemusement. “You have twenty-seven dresses, Doll. _Twenty-seven!_ What I don’t get is _why_. You have the wedding, you wear the dress, you throw it out. Why keep it? I mean, we live in New York. That closet is taking up valuable real estate.”

I smiled wistfully. “As strange as it sounds, I’ve had some really good times in those dresses. I don’t care if somebody wants me to wear a stupid dress. The day is about them, not me.”  
  
“God bless you,” Steve muttered.

“Look, I don’t care if they want me to snowshoe to the top of a mountain or caulk a fountain for a flock of swans. If that’s what’s required of me in order to support them on their big day, then that’s what I’ll do.”  
  
Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You’ve done that?”  
  
I nodded. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent caulker.”  
  
Steve spoke into his recorder once more. “The bridesmaid loves caulk,” he deadpanned.

I burst into laughter at his comment, which made his face light up in delight.

“Seriously, Doll, how much time do you spend doing this for other people? What about you? Don’t you have any needs?”  
  
“No, I don’t. I’m basically Jesus.” I grinned at him, then looked down at my hands. “One day. One day, it will be my turn, and they’ll all be there to support me. Well, that is, if I ever meet someone…”

I stopped as a flash went off.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered apologetically.

Whatever spell we had been under – the one that caused us to temporarily act as if we were friends - was broken. It was back to Steve the Cynic and Y/N the Forever Alone. I huffed as I stood up. “It’s fine. You don’t get it. Why would you?”

Steve let himself out while I changed into my pyjamas, and for once I was glad that somebody had left me without saying goodbye.


	6. Everywhere You Go, There I'll Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you continue to plan Natasha’s perfect wedding, Steve seems to be wherever you are. Which is exactly where you don’t want him.

Nat looked guilty when she opened the apartment door, which was not in the least bit suspicious. “Hey, Y/N! What’s up?”  
  
“I need your registry list.”  
  
“I’ll bring it down for you in a minute.” She attempted to close the door, but I stuck my foot in the way as I heard singing.

“What is that?” I asked.  
  
“Nothing!”  
  
“Nat, who is in there with you?” I pushed her out of the way and stared at the sight of Peter Parker vacuuming my living room while singing very loudly and gyrating his prepubescent hips to Rihanna’s _“Umbrella”._

“Don’t tell Clint! Peter was looking for a part time job, so…”  
  
“So you thought it would be a good idea to get him to clean the apartment? Natasha!”  
  
She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. He’s enjoying himself. I’m helping him gain independence.”  
  
“You’re taking advantage of a child, is what you are doing!” I grabbed the wedding gift registry and stalked out of the apartment, furious that my sister was exploiting the good-natured Peter.

Natasha was completely out of control, and I had no idea how to stop her.

*******************************************

Pepper Potts burst into Steve’s office. “Rogers, the bridesmaid story. How’s it coming along?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “It’s a little rough. I’m still working on it.”

“I want to see it. Send it through.”  
  
Trying to stall, he replied, “But it’s only a draft.”  
  
“Right now. Email it. I want to see it within the hour.”

“But it’s not done!” Steve protested. Pepper ignored him as she walked back to her office.

_Shit,_ he thought.

*******************************************

I rolled my eyes. “Can you go away, please? I did not invite you to tag along.”

Steve was following me, using his scanner to tag items that were most definitely not on Nat’s wedding registry. “Well, luckily Natasha asked me to join you. See, when I cover a wedding I need to go over every single aspect of it. No matter how boring or stupid it may be.”

I tried to ignore him as I scanned the items on the list. He snorted with derision as I scanned a Le Creuset casserole dish. He snorted. “Good grief, she wants _another_ one of those?”

I turned to glare at him. “Look, to you this might just be another casserole dish. But to Nat, this is the dish that she’s going to cook Christmas dinner in.”  
  
He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I amended the statement.

“Okay, fine. _I’m_ going to cook it, but Nat will be there.” I sighed. “With Clint.”

I scanned a crystal vase. “And this isn’t just a vase. It’s the vase that Natasha will bring out whenever Clint gives her flowers, just because he felt like it.”

Steve stood in front of a hideous cast-iron rooster. “And this is the rooster-shaped umbrella holder that is going to hold all of Clint’s umbrellas,” he declared solemnly.  
  
“Fine, be a jerk. But this isn’t just stuff. These are the things that build a life together.”  
  
Steve shook his head in disagreement. “No, Doll, you’re wrong. This is useless crap that the seventy billion dollar a year wedding industry has convinced everybody is absolutely necessary in order for us to be happy.”

“You know, I think all of your cynicism is just a smokescreen.” I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“For whatever your little secret is. Your parents got divorced when you were small; you haven’t found the right girl yet and you’re afraid you never will…”

He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. “And I think _you_ love weddings so much because you’d rather focus on other people’s Kodak moments instead of trying to make memories of your own.”  
  
I poked him in the chest. “Right. Because weddings are the perfect place to forget about the fact that you are single.”

“I think you just want a wedding. Not a marriage, just a wedding,” he sneered.

I rolled my eyes. “What is your problem, Rogers? Did you have your own big fancy wedding and then she left you or something?”  
  
I turned to find Steve staring at me sadly. “Bingo.”

“What?” I felt my heart sink when I realised what he’d just admitted.

“Yep. Married my high school sweetheart Peggy right after college, went to Afghanistan for twelve months as a war correspondent, and came back to find out that she’d moved in with our college English professor.” He gave me a wry grin. “I always knew she was Professor De Sousa’s favourite.”

I felt absolutely wretched. “Oh, my God, Steve. I’m so sorry. It was just a guess.”  
  
“It was a good one. You know, Y/N, for a person who has absolutely no insight about herself, you managed to nail me right on the head.”

I felt so guilty that the only way I could think of to cheer him up was to suggest we tag the ugliest things in the store for Nat. He grinned as he brandished his scanner like a pistol. “Let’s do it, Doll.”

*******************************************

Steve headed back to the office to find Pepper smiling for once. “Wow,” she said.

“See, I told you it still needs some work…” he started apologising.  
  
“No, I like it. It’s actually good.” Pepper sounded almost as surprised by her admission as Steve was. “I must admit, I was shocked. But it’s smart, and funny, and entertaining as hell. You really nailed this girl.”  
  
“Thanks, Pepper.”  
  
“We’re running it this weekend. Front page of the section.”  
  
Steve stared at his boss in consternation. She returned his gaze with a cool one of her own. “This is the part where you jump up and down with gratitude, Rogers.”

“No, I just… it’s not perfect yet. I really want to get this right. I think we should hold it for a bit.”  
  
“You have been begging me for months to write a story like this, and now you want me to hold it just so you can move a few commas around?” Pepper asked incredulously.

Steve tried to stall things. “No, see, she’s more than just this perpetual bridesmaid. There’s a lot more to her than that. The way it is now doesn’t really do her justice. I think we owe it to her to get this story perfect.”  
  
Pepper quirked a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “If I didn’t know better, Steve Rogers, I’d think you had a little crush on your subject.”

He fought the blush making its way up his neck. “I’m just saying that I can make it better.”  
  
“It’s fine the way it is.”  
  
“A week, Pepper. Please. Just give me a week to perfect it,” he begged.  
  
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. One week. Now get out.”

Steve raced back to his desk and made a call, a little surprised when Natasha answered the phone. “Hey Nat, I just wanted to give you an update on the column. I’m just finishing it up so we’re hopefully going to be running it in next Sunday’s paper.”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to read it,” Nat gushed.  
  
“I think you’re going to be really happy with it. Hey, while I’ve got you, do you have any idea where I can reach your sister?”

*******************************************

I saw Clint waving frantically to me as I headed to the boathouse restaurant. “Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it at such short notice. Nat is held up at her hairdressing appointment.”  
  
I smiled at him. “It’s fine, Clint. My afternoon was free. Besides, I have a lot more experience at eating than Natasha does, so…”  
  
My boss chuckled, causing his eyes to crinkle. It never failed to set my heart fluttering.

We spent the next half hour chatting about the upcoming wedding. Clint seemed almost as excited about it as Natasha. “What I love most about Nat is that there’s no bullshit,” he said. “She’s not afraid to be herself.”  
  
I grimaced. He had absolutely no clue as to what my sister was really like. “Clint, there’s something that I need to tell you about Nat…”

He looked at me with concern. “What, Y/N?”

I couldn’t do it. I simply could not hurt this man by telling him the truth about Natasha. “I’m just so happy for you both. I’m thrilled that you found what you were looking for in my sister.”

Clint seemed relieved. “So tell me, Y/N. What’s your favourite part about a wedding?”  
  
“Oh, that’s easy,” I said. “You know the part where the music starts and the bride enters and everybody turns to look at her? I always look at the groom in that moment instead. His face says it all. The pure love there, the adoration, that tells you everything you need to know.”  
  
“Okay. So when _you_ get married, and you start walking down the aisle, I have your permission to check out the groom?” he grinned.

“Please do. Please make sure that the poor sucker is still standing there.”

Clint laughed. “Are you kidding me? Any guy would be lucky to be with you. You’re amazing. And the way you tackled that deconstructed eggplant parmigiana… Man, who could resist that? It was very sexy.”

The two of us laughed, but I stopped as soon as I noticed Steve Rogers/Steven Grant/whoever the hell he really is walking towards us. Clint smiled at him as he spotted him. “Hey, Steve.”  
  
I stared at him, hoping he would be struck by a giant metal frisbee. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“You guys picking out the wedding menu?” Steve rubbed his hands together with glee. “Where’s Nat?”  
  
“She’s getting her hair done. I’m just helping out.” I turned to Clint. “We really should head off if we’re going to get to Marveltown and back in time for dinner.”

Clint looked apologetically at Steve. “Nat and I have dinner with my parents tonight, but we need to pick up some linens from the antique store first, so…”  
  
“Well, why don’t I go with Y/N?” Steve suggested.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to do that. I can get you back in plenty of time, Clint,” I assured him.

“Look, I really don’t mind, it’s totally fine,” Steve persisted. “I’ve got a few more questions I need to ask you anyway. For the article.”  
  
“Which I’ll be happy to answer, either by phone or email,” I said through gritted teeth.

“If you don’t mind, Steve, that would be a great help,” Clint said.

“I don’t mind at all,” Steve replied, smirking in my direction. “In fact, I insist.”

What the hell did I do to deserve Steve Rogers in my life?


	7. When Love and Hate Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Steve get stuck in the middle of nowhere, and drunken shenanigans ensue.

The rain was bucketing down as I drove towards Marveltown with my unwanted companion. The weather was as dark as my mood.

Apparently Steve’s mood wasn’t any better, because he had been ranting non-stop for the past half hour. “You know, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. As soon as I saw you mooning over him over the tiramisu, everything fell into place. _Of course_ you’re pissed off. You’re planning your sister’s wedding to the man that you’re in love with. You’re stuck in this weird, creepy little love triangle that the other two players aren’t even aware of, and in the meantime you are about one monogrammed party favour away from blowing your goddamned brains out.”  
  
I don’t know why the hell he was so angry at _me._ _He_ wasn’t the one in love with his sister’s fiancé. “You are being ridiculous.”

He ignored my interruption as he continued his tirade. “And of course, you can’t tell either of them, because you’re nice, sweet, dependable Y/N. You’d never let either of them know how you really feel because it might upset someone.”  
  
“Would you just shut up? You don’t know what you are talking about. Clint is my _boss._ Natasha is my _sister._ I am _thrilled_ to be planning their wedding. Just like I have been for every other wedding that I have been involved with.” I glared at him. “But you can’t understand that because you are mean, and dark, and cynical. You are like the Grinch, except that instead of hating Christmas, you hate true love.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Steve asked. “At least I’m not pining over someone that doesn’t even know I exist!”  
  
I slammed my hands on the steering wheel. “Well _of course_ he doesn’t know I exist! He’s smitten with my sister! My beautiful, elegant, sophisticated sister who is everything I’m not.”  
  
Steve snorted. “You are so much more than her. You’re more real than she will ever be.”

“Would you just stop it? Stop!”

He huffed. “Fine. But maybe you should slow down a bit so I can read this sign.”  
  
I ignored him completely, speeding past the sign advising how much further it was to our destination.

“Listen, Doll, you need to slow down a bit, okay? Otherwise we’re going to hydroplane.”  
  
“Oh my God, would you just _shut up!_ ”

“Seriously, crazy lady, we’re going to hydroplane.” Steve sounded slightly panicked.

“We are not going to hydroplane,” I contradicted, as I rounded a bend in the road. “This is a Volvo. Volvos don’t hydroplane.”

Naturally, because the road was wet and I was driving too fast and Steve was right and I was wrong and God hates me because that is how my entire life seems to work lately, we hydroplaned. Steve and I both yelled in panic as I tried to correct the steering, and the car drove down an embankment, skidding along the grass, somehow managing to avoid colliding with every single tree in our path. We came to a stop under a huge oak tree, missing the trunk by mere inches.

When we realised that we were both completely unscathed, Steve opened his mouth.

“Not _one word,_ Rogers. Not one,” I hissed at him.

For once, he didn’t say anything.

*******************************************

Of course, because we were in the middle of Hicksville, Nowhere, there was no cell phone reception. I decided to brave the storm and race back to the main road, hoping to find somewhere that had a phone.

Obviously, Steve decided to join me. Yay.

We managed to find a bar about a mile down the road, entering it with relief. We ignored the stares of the other patrons who appeared less than impressed with our impersonation of a pair of drowned rats.

I ran to the pay phone, only to discover that it was dead. I asked the bartender if I could use his phone, and he kindly obliged. Steve sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch. “Three fingers, no ice.”  
  
“What are you doing?” I stared at him incredulously.  
  
“Well, Doll, it’s late. There’s no phone, we’re not getting a tow truck out here at this time of the night, and we are stuck in the middle of nowhere. I’m having a drink.” He gave me a look. “You know, you could join me.”

“No.”  
  
“Why am I the only person that you ever seem to be able to say ‘No’ to?”  
  
“Because you’re the only person who pisses me off on a regular basis, that’s why.”  
  
“It’s a talent.” He patted the seat next to him. “Look, there’s nobody that you can help right now. Why don’t you sit and relax for once? Have a drink. It’s been a long day.”

I grudgingly perched on the bar stool beside him. “Fine. I’ll have what he’s having.” The bartender placed three fingers of scotch in front of me.

Steve clinked his glass to mine. “Cheers, Doll.”  
  
“Just the one drink, Rogers.”

*******************************************

I lost track of how many shots I’d taken, but it was obviously enough to loosen my tongue significantly.

I stared at Steve. “Alright. February 12, two years ago.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow at me, so I elaborated. “The Fitz-Simmons wedding? You wrote a column that was absolutely, without a doubt _the most_ beautiful thing I have ever read in my entire life. It moved me to tears.”  
  
He shrugged. “I don’t remember it.”  
  
My eyes bugged out of my head. “What do you mean, you don’t remember it?”  
  
Another shrug. “I don’t remember it. All weddings kind of blur one into another after a while.”  
  
I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. It was the anniversary of her father’s death, her brother flew home from Afghanistan to give her away… You cannot fake emotion like that.”  
  
“Yes, you can. A good writer can.”  
  
I snorted into my drink. “You’re not _that_ good.”

Steve gave me his Eyebrows of Disappointment. I smirked at him, and we each downed another shot. He shuddered. For such a large man, he didn’t hold his liquor nearly as well as I would have expected.  
  
“Be honest with me, Steve. There has to be _one_ thing you like about weddings. Just one.”  
  
He considered for a moment. “Open bar.”  
  
I shook my head. “Bzzzzzz. Nope, wrong answer. Try again.”  
  
“All right.” He stared at me with those impossibly blue eyes. “So, you know how the bride waltzes in to make her grand entrance and everybody always focuses on her? I always like to take a look at the poor schmuck standing up there waiting for her instead. Because even though _I_ think he’s an absolute idiot for willingly entering into the last legal form of slavery, I dunno, he always just looks really happy. For some reason, that just…”  
  
Steve’s voice trailed off when he noticed that I was staring at him in open-mouthed astonishment. “What, Doll? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are you shitting me right now? That’s _my_ favourite part!”  
  
“No way!”

I grimaced. “Oh my God, we actually have something in common.”  
  
He grinned at me. “Well, you know, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Admit it, Steve. Underneath that serious exterior, you’re really just a big softie. This whole cynical thing is just an act to make you seem all mysterious and moody and sexy.” I sipped my scotch.

His grin grew wider. “Woah, woah, woah. Back up there for a second. What was that last part?”  
  
“What?” I tried to rewind my brain to determine what I’d said that had captured his interest.  
  
“Did you just call me sexy?” That shit-eating grin made me want to punch him in his stupidly handsome face.

“Pffft. No.” Shit. Did I? Fuck, yes, I did!

“You think I’m sexy, Doll? It’s okay if you do,” he smirked. “It’s fine to admit you think I’m a little bit sexy.”

“No, of course _I_ don’t think you’re sexy. I think that _you_ think that you’re sexy. That’s the point I was trying to make,” I said rather unconvincingly.

“Of course.” The shit-eating grin was still there.  
  
I dutifully ignored him as I listened to the music in the background. It was _‘Benny and the Jets’_ by Elton John, and it is one of my absolute favourites. “God, I love this song.”  
  
“Me, too.” Steve started singing into his glass, completely mangling the lyrics.

_“Hey kids, yada yada yada  
Gonna something something  
And we’re gonna make a feather!”_

I hooted with laughter. “Those aren’t the words!”  
  
“Those are totally the words!” he insisted. “Fine, lyric police. What are the words?”  
  
I joined in the impromptu karaoke session.

_“You got some heavy hair  
So the music is the walrus sounds…”_

Steve choked on his scotch. “Walrus sounds is absolutely what is coming out of your mouth right now.”

The two of us started singing together, belting out words that made absolutely no sense, while the rest of the bar patrons watched on in amusement.

Eventually the two of us were dancing on the bar, yelling the lyrics while the song played on repeat for what must have been the hundredth time. The bartender didn’t even seem to mind. The other patrons joined in raucously for the chorus, cheering us on wildly.

_“She’s got electric boobs!  
A mohair suit!  
You know I read in a magaz-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ne oh ho!  
B-B-B-Benny and the Jets!”_

“I’m pretty sure it’s not electric boobs, Doll,” Steve laughed as he eventually jumped down from the bar. He held out his arms and helped me down. Once I was on the ground though, he didn’t relinquish his hold on me, instead wrapping his arms tighter around my waist. I found myself staring into the depths of those incredible blue eyes. The look on his face was indecipherable.

“Steve?” I asked with a puzzled frown.  
  
“I cried like a baby at the Fitz-Simmons wedding,” he admitted.

I continued staring at him for half a second, before I smashed my lips onto his.

*******************************************

I felt like a teenager as Steve and I fumbled with each other’s clothes in the backseat of the car. He almost ripped my shirt off in his haste to undress me.

“God, Y/N, you’re beautiful.”

Steve was one to talk. I gazed at his body in stunned appreciation. He was like a Greek statue, all six-pack and pecs and perfect definition. He had just enough hair on his chest to be sexy, and it trailed down that perfect torso to the more interesting parts of his anatomy. “Man, how are you even real? Are you sure you’re not photoshopped?”

He latched onto my neck with those perfect, pouty lips of his, sucking so hard that I was positive he was going to leave a hickey and I absolutely did not care.

Steve undid the buttons on my jeans, and his hand ended up inside my underwear. My God, it had been so long since anything had been down there other than my own fingers or my vibrator, and it felt _amazing._ I groaned, which was clearly the response he wanted because suddenly his thumb got involved and the party just got even better from there.

Eventually we had both shed enough clothing to make things really interesting. Our lips were locked even as I straddled him. I ground my hips against him, and his breath hitched slightly.

“It’s been years since I’ve had sex in the back of a car,” he grinned at me.

“Lucky this is a Volvo and not a Volkswagen,” I whispered against his mouth. Steve obviously understood my _Mallrats_ reference, because he chuckled softly.

“I’ve done this in a VW Beetle. Not really a car designed for sex unless you’re a midget,” he admitted.

“Steve…” I moaned.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You talk too much.”

“You know you love me,” he teased.  
  
I rolled my eyes. “I tolerate you.” Then I kissed him again.  
  
Neither of us did much talking for the rest of the night.


	8. Salt in the Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You discover Steve’s betrayal, and your hurt is only compounded when Natasha does the unthinkable.

I woke the next morning to find myself still sprawled on the backseat of the car. I had somehow managed to get back into my clothes, and Steve’s jacket was tucked around me. I sat up gingerly. It felt like a marching band had taken up residence in my brain.

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and a cup of coffee was shoved under my nose. “Morning, Doll!”

God, Steve Rogers is a perky morning person, because _of course._ As if I needed another reason to hate him. I grabbed the coffee and took a grateful sip of that fabulous caffeinated elixir.

“The tow truck is on its way. It will be about an hour,” he advised, his gaze fixed on me.

I glanced awkwardly at Steve. “I just want you to know…” I gestured vaguely between the two of us. “I never do this.”  
  
“Oh, believe me, Doll, I know,” he grinned. “You kept saying it last night. _I_ never do this. I never _do_ this _._ I _NEVER_ do this…”  
  
“All right! I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Steve held out his hand, which I stared at suspiciously. “Come on, Doll. You must be hungry. There’s a diner down the road, we can get some breakfast.”  
  
I was about to decline, but my stomach chose that exact moment to growl extremely loudly. Traitor. I grabbed his hand as I climbed out of the car. “Fine. Let’s get something to eat while we wait for the tow truck.”  
  
Steve kept hold of my hand as we walked, his fingers interlaced with mine. As he hadn’t seemed to notice, I didn’t want to bring attention to it so I decided not to mention anything. I also didn’t want to admit that it actually felt quite nice. The man was intolerable enough as it was. If he thought for one second that I actually enjoyed the physical contact then I might never get rid of him.

We ordered our breakfasts and sat down at the booths to wait. When the plate of bacon, eggs, sausage and toast was in front of me, I suddenly realised just how ravenous I was. Steve smiled indulgently at me as I unashamedly stuffed my face. He probably wasn’t used to seeing a girl who actually enjoyed food. Certainly, he wouldn’t have seen the same spectacle if it was Natasha sitting here instead of me.

Suddenly, a young guy came up to us with a huge grin on his face. “Hey, guys!”  
  
We looked at him in confusion, and his face fell when we obviously didn’t recognise him. “Last night! You know! B-B-B-Benny and the Jets!” he sang gleefully. He gave us an awkward thumbs up and left us to continue our meal.

I groaned with embarrassment at the memory, while my companion grinned back at me. “Oh my God, we totally sang ‘ _Benny and the Jets’_ on constant repeat last night, didn’t we?”

“We sure did, and might I say, you were a little pitchy,” Steve said critically.

“Excuse me? _You_ were hitting notes that only dogs could hear,” I snarked back.

He laughed. “At least I was in key, which is more than I can say for you.”  
  
The waitress came to refill our coffee cups, and stood staring at us. Well, more accurately, she stared at me. “Oh my God, it’s you!”  
  
I nodded. “Yep. I’m Benny, he’s the Jets,” I replied, pointing at Steve.

“No! You’re the girl from the paper!” She grabbed the paper and placed it in front of me.

I picked it up just as Steve realised what I held. “Shit! Y/N, don’t look at that!”

He tried to snatch it out of my hands, but I turned away. “ ‘Always, always, _always_ the bridesmaid.’ By Steven Grant. What the hell is this?”

I stared in horror at the photos that Steve had taken of me in my multitude of bridesmaid gowns. The sadness on my face in the final picture that he’d snapped of me without my knowledge.  
  
“Y/N, please, let me explain…”

I threw the paper in Steve’s face as I stormed out of the diner. He chased after me.

“Y/N, please. I told my editor not to run it this weekend. I wanted to talk to you first.” He grabbed my hand. “Nobody reads that section anyway. Y/N…”  
  
I ripped my hand from his grasp and slapped him as hard as I could. He stood there staring at me sadly, as I tried valiantly to stop the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Stay the hell away from me, Steve Rogers.”

He didn’t follow me as I made my way back to the car.

*******************************************

Steve burst into Pepper’s office. “Really, Pepper? I thought you were going to hold the article until I’d fixed it.”  
  
Pepper looked completely unperturbed at the sudden intrusion. “You don’t make those decisions, Rogers. I do. It was perfectly fine the way it was, so I ran it.”  
  
Steve rubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t even get a chance to explain it to her first! She was ambushed, Pepper.”

Pepper continued looking at him coolly. “I just gave you twenty-four inches in the Sunday paper. The only thing you should be saying to me right now is ‘I love you’.”

Steve stared after his boss, wishing he could find a way to turn back time.

*******************************************

I’d barely made it through the front door of my apartment when I was accosted by Natasha. “How the hell could you let this happen?” she screeched, waving the ‘Commitments’ section in my face.

I groaned as I sat down on the couch while Natasha continued her tirade. Reading from the paper, she recited, “If Y/N is the prototypical accommodating bridesmaid, then her sister Natasha is cast as the overbearing, overindulged Bridezilla. One can only imagine her stomping around New York City, breathing fire and swatting fighter planes from the sky if things don’t go exactly as she dictates.”  
  
“I didn’t realise that he was writing an article about me,” I responded listlessly.

“ _You?_ Who cares about _you?_ He called _me_ fucking Bridezilla! In the New York fucking Journal! I could tear him apart limb from limb and beat him to death with the soggy end!” I’d never seen Natasha so livid about anything. She’s usually such an ice queen. Under different circumstances I would have found her rage absolutely comical.

My phone rang, and she paused her rampage long enough to answer it with a venomous snarl. “What?”  
  
I heard Steve’s muffled voice on the other end of the phone. “Hey, is Y/N there?”

“Oh, the only person you’re going to be speaking to is my attorney! And I don’t even have one yet, but I’m sure as shit going to get one, you asshole!” Natasha hung up and threw the phone at the wall. “I need to get out of here. But you’d better alert traffic control because Bridezilla is on the loose!”

She stomped out of the apartment, leaving me thankfully, blissfully, alone.

*******************************************

I entered my office the next morning to find a dozen messages on my desk. I flicked through them all. “Steve. Steve. Fucking Steve. Stop calling me!” I screwed them all up and threw them in the bin.

Maria came in and perched herself on the edge of my desk, staring at me speculatively.

“Before you say anything, Maria, can you please just shut up?”

She shrugged. “Say what? Who was going to say anything? I have no clue what you are referring to.” Her gaze turned soft. “Look, it was just a stupid article. On the front page of the section. With a million pictures of you. Who cares? Who’s upset?”  
  
“Y/N!” Clint’s voice echoed through the office, causing me to groan. Perfect, just what I needed.

I headed into Clint’s office, already apologising before I’d even shut the door. “Clint, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what he was writing about. If I’d known…”  
  
Clint held up a hand to stop me. “Y/N, the guy was a jerk who took advantage of you to try and further his career. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like I should have seen it coming. I’m so sorry.”  
  
Clint came up and put his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. “Y/N, stop apologising. The only reason I called you in here is to make sure that you’re okay.”  
  
“Oh.” I was a bit nonplussed, given that Clint had never really shown any particular concern for my feelings before. “Well, I’ve been better, but I’ve also been through a lot worse.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re a tough cookie. You’ll get through this. And if I see Grant, or Rogers, or whatever his name is, I’ll punch him in the face for you.” He pulled me in for a quick hug.

“Thanks, Clint.”  
  
“No problem. Now get back to work,” he smiled softly.

“Yes, boss.”

*******************************************

Natasha was talking to the dressmaker, standing in her lingerie, when I entered the bridal boutique. “Y/N, is that you?”  
  
“Yes, Nat.” I walked up to her cautiously, given that we hadn’t really talked since the weekend.

“I’ve given the whole article fiasco a lot of thought, and I’ve decided to forgive you,” she announced magnanimously. “It’s not your fault, really. You’re just way too trusting of other people.”

“That’s very big of you, Nat,” I replied somewhat sarcastically.

“Oh, about the slide show for the rehearsal dinner. I’ve written out a script for you to follow, so you don’t have to worry about that. And Dad says you have all of the family photos so if you could pick what you think is most suitable, I’d really appreciate it. If you could get some of Clint, too, that would be great.”  
  
I nodded as she handed me a piece of paper. “Please say this, and only this. We don’t want to be embarrassed again, do we?” Nat looked at me expectantly as I scanned through the document, snorting at the level of saccharine sweetness contained within the words I was looking at.

The attendant brought over the wedding gown and Nat slipped into it. “Well, what do you think?”  
  
It was beautiful, but not what I was expecting. I frowned. “I thought you were wearing Mom’s wedding dress.”  
  
“Oh, it is her dress. Well, parts of it anyway. We used some of it for the bodice. See?”

I came up to her, staring in horror at the absolute travesty standing before me.

Nat continued, oblivious to my distress. “Mom’s dress was just so old-fashioned, so we could really only use bits of it.”

“You cut up Mom’s wedding dress?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

Nat giggled. “Well, technically the dressmaker did. But don’t worry, we saved the rest of it for you.” She gestured to the box on the floor, containing the tattered remnants of what remained of our mother’s wedding dress.

“No. _No no no no no._ ” I turned around to leave.  
  
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Natasha asked, completely clueless to the injury she’d just caused.  
  
“Oh my God, Natasha. You don’t care about anybody but yourself, do you? I have made excuses for you all your life because Mom died when you were so little, but this is the last straw. I’ve had enough.”

“What are you talking about?”  
  
I shook my head, willing the tears not to fall. “I can’t undo what you’ve just done. But I’ll be damned if I let you keep lying to Clint. I won’t let you hurt him. He’s only marrying you because he thinks he loves you based on all of the lies that you have told him. He doesn’t know anything about the real you, Nat.”  
  
She stood in the middle of the boutique, with her hands on her hips. “That’s not true.”  
  
“Clint is not one of your Eurotrash boyfriends that you can just string along until you get tired of him. He is a good person, and he deserves better than you. You cannot start a relationship based on lies.”  
  
Nat scoffed. “And you know this how? Because of all _your_ successful relationships? You haven’t had a boyfriend in five years.”

“You tell Clint the truth, Natasha, or I will.”

She scoffed. “No, you won’t. You won’t do anything to hurt me. I’m your sister.”  
  
I looked her up and down with disdain. “Not anymore. Now you’re just the bitch who broke my heart and destroyed my mother’s wedding dress.”

Natasha threw one last parting shot at me as I left the boutique. “Yeah, well Mom’s dress wouldn’t have fit you anyway!”


	9. This Is How A Heart Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You choose the worst possible moment to vent a lifetime of hurt and frustration, and Steve can only watch helplessly as your world comes crashing down.

I entered the restaurant where Clint had proposed to Natasha. The place was already full of people, all there to toast the happy couple. Dad was laughing with the pair of them.

I was accosted by Melinda May, one of my father’s old friends, as I made my way to Natasha and Clint. “Y/N, you look lovely! Oh, it must be so hard watching your little sister get married before you,” she said condescendingly.

I smiled serenely at her. “I did feel bad at first, until I remembered that I still get to have hot, angry hate sex with random strangers and now I feel so much better.”  
  
I patted her arm as I walked off, enjoying the look of utter confusion on her face. I headed over to the maître d’, pulling my laptop out of my bag as I did so. Maria glanced at me with approval. “Hell, chicky, you scrub up nice. I might even be into you if you play your cards right.”  
  
I smiled at her and then handed the laptop to the maître d’. “The file you need is on the desktop under ‘Clint and Nat’,” I instructed. He nodded and left to set up the computer and projector screen.

Maria scrutinised my face. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yep, never better.” I grabbed her drink and took a huge swig.  
  
“That’s not water, it’s vodka… Oh, never mind,” Maria muttered as I drained her glass. I handed it back to her and marched over to Clint and Nat.

Clint gave me a huge smile when I approached. “Y/N, thank you so much for doing this for us. We really appreciate it.”  
  
“It’s no problem, Clint. Oh, look! Pigs in blankets!” I grabbed two of the bacon-wrapped cocktail weiners, waving one in Natasha’s face. Pigs in blankets are her favourite. “Want one, Nat?”  
  
She grimaced at me. “Y/N, you know I don’t eat that stuff.”  
  
“Oh, right! Sorry, I forgot,” I said as I shoved another one in my mouth. “Pity, because these are really good. Well, I’d better go and present the slideshow.”  
  
Nat grabbed my arm as I went to head to the stage. “You’re only going to say what I wrote, aren’t you?” she asked with concern.  
  
“Of course,” I assured her. “The perfect bridesmaid always does what she’s asked.” I patted her hand and wandered to the stage as my sister stared after me suspiciously.

I tapped on my glass to gain everyone’s attention. “Good evening everyone. As I’m sure most of you have read by now, I have been to more than my fair share of weddings.”  
  
The crowd laughed, appreciating my ability to poke fun at myself. Dad smiled at me.

“So to start things off, I thought you should all know the truth about Nat and Clint.” I looked directly at my sister, who returned my steady gaze with a terrified one of her own. Grabbing the script she’d given me, I commenced reciting, rather woodenly. “Nat and Clint are a perfect couple, nay, a divine couple, whose love for each other is the stuff of legends. Their compatibility is so exact that it can only be said to be a perfect love match which was obviously designed by the gods themselves.”

The ‘ _Naaaws’_ of everyone set my teeth on edge.

I continued. “As a picture paints a thousand words, I have put together a slide show to demonstrate just how perfect Nat and Clint are together. From the very beginning, Nat and Clint were destined for each other.”  
  
Cute baby photos of the two of them appeared on screen, morphing into adorable photos of them throughout their childhoods.

I went through the script word for word, but the pictures eventually became almost a mockery of what was written.

As I described how much they both loved God’s furry creatures, the picture of Nat showed her wearing a fur coat, as opposed to Clint’s obvious affection for his dog, Lucky. When I outlined how dedicated they both were to their education, photos of Clint’s college graduation were a stark contrast to Nat in her cheerleader’s outfit, surrounded by the entire football team. Their civic responsibilities were clearly different, given that Clint often donated his time to help at a soup kitchen, whereas Natasha preferred her philanthropy to involve a bikini and a car wash.

It became increasingly obvious to everyone in attendance that while Clint was everything he had ever claimed, Natasha was not the shining paragon of virtue that she had painted herself to be to her fiancé. His face had grown from bemused to confused to hurt to downright furious by the time the slideshow ended, while Natasha stared at me with a look of absolute betrayal on her face.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at my father, who was staring at me with utter confusion. I’d never said so much as a cross word to Natasha in her entire life, so naturally he couldn’t understand why I would do something like this, tonight of all nights.

“So, congratulations to two true soulmates, Nat and Clint. Please raise your glasses to two perfect people, brought together by destiny. I’m so proud of you, baby sister.” I drained my glass of champagne.

Maria hurried onto the stage and shoved me off unceremoniously. “All right, well that was… yeah. Okay. Anyway, it's an open bar tonight, so drink up!”

Clint stormed out of the restaurant, with Natasha trailing behind him, desperately trying to convince him that everything I had just revealed was not what it sounded like.  
  
Maria looked at me. “So what happened?”  
  
“Clint needed to know the truth about Natasha,” I replied piously.

“You could have told him face to face instead of springing it on him like that. I mean, I know my moral compass doesn’t always point due north, but if I tell you something is wrong, then maybe it might just be a little bit wrong.”

“Maria, you are the one who is always telling me I need to stand up for myself!”

My best friend gave me a look that told me that I was being stupid. “Yeah, but that’s not what you did. You just unleashed twenty years of pent up hurt and frustration in five minutes. It was funny as hell, I’ll give you that, and it was totally worth it to finally see that smug look wiped off your sister’s face. But honestly, if it was the right thing to do, you’d be feeling a hell of a lot better right now, wouldn’t you?”

Natasha came running up to me in tears. “The wedding’s off. I hope you’re satisfied.” She ran over to our father, crying on his shoulder as he comforted her.  
  
I heaved a sigh and left the restaurant, my throat constricting as I tried to hold back my own tears. I was so caught up in my inner turmoil that I didn’t notice that I had company until Steve Rogers stood directly in front of me. “Oh, great, just what I need right now. Why the hell are you here?”

He looked at me with a hurt expression. “You haven’t returned any of my calls.”  
  
I sneered at him. “What do you want? Another picture for your paper?”

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry…”  
  
I held up a hand. “Oh, please! You used me to get ahead in your career. Just man up and admit it. Or don’t, I really don’t care. But don’t you dare stand there and pretend that you actually give a shit about me!”

“Will you please let me explain, Doll?” He started to walk towards me, but I moved two steps back.  
  
“No! I don’t care, Steve. It doesn’t matter. I just destroyed my entire life and I didn’t even need your help to do it.”

Steve threw his hands up in frustration. “Great! Finally! You know, I saw what you just did in there and I thought it was absolutely amazing. Was it totally, certifiably, one hundred percent batshit crazy? Undoubtedly. But for once in your life, you actually did something unpredictable. For the first time, you were not the perfect bridesmaid that everybody always expects you to be. For the first time, you did the last thing that anybody would have ever expected from you.”  
  
“Just please, stop. I am not doing this with you. I don’t even know why I’m standing here talking to you.”

Steve grabbed my hand to prevent me from walking away from him. “Y/N, just listen to me. Do you want to know the real reason that I came here tonight? It wasn’t to cover the wedding rehearsal, or to do a follow up on Nat and Clint. I came here because I knew how hard this was going to be for you, and for the first time in years I wanted to be there for somebody. Okay? I wanted to be here for you.”

I stared at my tormentor in disbelief. He continued, unperturbed. “Yes, I messed up. I should have told you what my article was really about. I will never be able to apologise enough for that. So I’m going to turn around and walk away. I’m going to disappear and I promise that you will never see me again, if that’s what you really want. But I just wanted you to know that I think that you deserve so much more than what you’ve settled for.”  
  
I scoffed, and he came and stood directly in front of me, grabbing my face in his hands. “I honestly believe that you deserve someone in your life who will put _you_ first for a change. I just wish you believed that, too.”

He fished something out of his pocket and held it out for me. It was a brand new Stark Phone, the latest model, which I’d coveted from the moment it was launched but would never have thought to buy for myself. “I wanted to give you this. So you don’t have to carry around that stupid planner like some relic from the ‘80s. This will take care of all your appointments for you. You’re supposed to be a modern, professional woman, so you should look the part. You need to upgrade your tech, Doll.”

I continued to stare at the phone in his hands. He shook it under my nose. “Will you please take it so I’m not standing here looking like a complete jerk?”

I took the phone, and he smiled at me. He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “I’ll see you around, Doll.”  
  
Then he turned and walked away from me, just like he promised he would.

I continued to stare after him, long after he’d rounded the corner and vanished from sight.


	10. Everything I Never Knew I Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Natasha make amends; you come to a startling realisation about your feelings for Clint; and you hope that you are not too late to secure your happy-ever-after.

Pepper came up to Steve with a big smile on her face, which instantly put him on alert. “The column had a phenomenal response. Everybody loved it.”  
  
“Wow. That’s good news,” he replied flatly.

“Looks like you’ve got your wish, Rogers. You’ve been bumped from ‘Commitments’. This weekend will be the last wedding you ever need to cover.”

“Well, great.” Steve hoped that Pepper didn’t notice that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Steve, be happy. You finally got what you wanted, right?”

_No,_ he thought. _Not at all._

*******************************************

I sat forlornly in my father’s hardware store, as he lectured me. “Look, Y/N, the two of you are sisters. You need to sort this out.”

“I know, Dad, but I’m telling you that Nat doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“She loves you, sweetie. Everything is going to be fine. Just trust me, okay?”  
  
I heard the bell above the door ring as it opened, and my heart sank as I heard Nat’s voice. “Dad? Are you here?”

I followed Dad meekly out of his office and stood in front of Nat. Her eyes narrowed in anger. “What the hell is _she_ doing here?”

“Natasha, this is between the two of you. Sort it out. No pancakes until you do.” He walked out of the store with the lame excuse that old Mr Stan Lee needed his help out the back.

Natasha waited until Dad was outside and then began throwing things at me. Nothing sharp or dangerous, but still, it hurts when a full can of bug spray is hurled at you. “You bitch!” she screeched.  
  
I ran around the store trying to find something to defend myself from my sister’s wrath, even though part of me relished her anger. I fully deserved to have her unleash the hounds of hell on me. “I’m sorry, Nat! I feel terrible for what I did!”

“You humiliated me in front of all of our friends and family, and you think that you can just say _sorry_ and make it all better?” She skipped out of the way as I defended myself by waving a broom in her direction.

I ducked as a packet of sponges was aimed at my head. She continued yelling at me. “You have always been jealous of me! My clothes, my boyfriends, _everything!_ You’ve been waiting for years for the opportunity to just tear me down! And you took the one thing in my life that was finally working!”

“Oh, please!” I snorted. “This is so typical of you, Natasha. You aren’t taking any responsibility at all for the fact that you _lied_ to Clint and manipulated him. You know that the truth would have come out eventually, and that would have hurt Clint a hell of a lot more than finding out before he married you.”

I threw a dustpan back at her. “Did you even love Clint, or was it just convenient for you?”  
  
A wire brush came flying towards me. “Oh, please, Y/N, get off your high horse. Just admit that you resent me because you always had to look after me ever since we were little.”

“No, I didn’t! I have never resented that.” The packet of sponges made a return to Natasha, and I felt a slight sense of satisfaction when they hit her in the face.  
  
“Yes, you have. You hate the fact that my life was so easy compared to yours.”  
  
“That’s because it was! You never had to worry about _anything._ You are beautiful, and charming, and sophisticated. Your life is perfect.”  
  
Natasha made the most indelicate sound I have ever heard. “Perfect? Are you kidding me? You have no idea. You want to know the real reason why I decided to stay in New York? Because my agent wasn’t booking any work for me because she thinks I’m getting too old. I’m only twenty-five but she says I’m practically over the hill. She’s pretty much ensured that I will never work in Europe again.”  
  
She hopped up on Dad’s office desk. “And then Rhodey dumped me. _He_ dumped _me_. Because he said I was too self-centred and superficial. And then Clint came along, and he was nice to me and he treated me better than anyone I’ve ever known. He was so sweet and loving and everything I’ve ever wanted. So I tried to be what I thought _he_ wanted, what he deserved. I tried to be someone that he could respect. I just wanted him to think that I was like _you_.”  
  
I looked at my baby sister incredulously. _“Me?_ Why the hell would you want to be me when you get to be you?”  
  
Nat rolled her eyes. “Because you’re perfect, Y/N. No, don’t scoff. You are. You’re generous and intelligent and kind and loyal and sweet and beautiful. It’s no wonder everybody loves you.”  
  
I sat next to her, stunned that my sister thought so highly of me, and she hugged me with one arm around my shoulders. “You have been trying to look after me, ever since Mom died.”  
  
“I had to.”  
  
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. You only thought you did. I don’t need you to be my mother. I’m a big girl now, I don’t need you to keep looking after me. I just need you to be my sister. You need to stop taking care of me, of everybody. It’s time you started taking care of yourself.”

Her words echoed the sentiment that Steve had said to me before he walked away a few nights ago.

Maybe they were truer than I’d wanted to believe.

*******************************************

My phone rang as soon as I entered my apartment. “Hello? Yeah, no problem, I’ll come right over. Okay, see you soon.”

Clint was dressed in an elegant suit when I arrived at the office, looking more dashing than I’d ever seen him before. He looked up from his computer as I walked into his office, and his eyes lit up with appreciation when he saw me. “Wow, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Clint,” I replied, blushing slightly.

“So, I guess you really did need to find me a date for this thing after all, huh?”

He’d invited me to be his plus one for the Stark Industries benefit, given that he and Nat were no longer together. I’d been dreaming of this day since I’d first told him about it weeks ago, and yet, standing here in front of him, I was not as excited as I’d always anticipated that I would be when I finally got to go on a date with Clint Barton.

I looked at him contritely. “Look, Clint, I just wanted to apologise for the other night. I was completely out of line and I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

He shushed me. “You actually did me a favour, Y/N. I mean, what the hell was I thinking, marrying someone that I barely even know? It’s crazy.”  
  
We stood there, staring awkwardly at each other, until we mutually agreed to forget the whole thing. Clint scratched the back of his neck. “I really hate to ask another favour of you, but I need to print out my speech for tonight and I can’t find the file.”  
  
“Oh, no problem, I can get that for you.” I sat down at his computer, searching for the document.

“I’m so glad I could count on you tonight. That’s why I love you, Y/N. You never say ‘No’.”  
  
I sat up as if I’d been hit by a thunderbolt. “What did you just say?”

Clint scrunched his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I just meant… Did I say something wrong?”

“You know what, Clint? I quit.”

“What do you mean, you quit?” He sounded outraged.  
  
I shrugged. “When I first came here after college, I was completely blown away by being mentored by you and working for this company, and then I got so caught up in my job that I never really had a life outside of it. I think I got so comfortable here and that made me too scared to leave. And then I had to be here every day so that I could see you because I was so desperately in love with you…”

Clint cocked his head to the side and looked at me as if he was seeing me for the very first time.

“Sorry, it was a stupid crush and that’s why I never said anything. But you’ll be fine, Clint. You’ll get some bright young college grad who will devote two years max to this company because that’s what’s acceptable nowadays…”  
  
My words were cut off by Clint crashing his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and waited for the passion to build…

Before I knew it, Clint had pulled away. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. But it was kind of spur of the moment…”  
  
“It’s fine, Clint. I’ve always wanted to know what that would feel like.”  
  
“And?” He looked at me hopefully.

I blinked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”  
  
Clint winced. “Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“How about we try one more time? Just to be sure? It might be different if you’re expecting it.”  
  
“Sure, once more,” I agreed.  
  
His lips once again covered mine, and his fingers carded through my hair. I put my hands to the back of his neck…

It was the most boring kiss I’d ever had.

“Sorry, still nothing. You?”  
  
Clint looked apologetic. “If I’m being honest…”  
  
We both laughed. “Yeah, that’s not what it’s meant to feel like. When you’re with the person you’re meant to be with, it’s supposed to feel like fireworks.”

Suddenly, the muffled sound of ‘ _Benny and the Jets’_ came from my purse. I stared at it in confusion before realising that it was the Stark Phone that Steve had given to me. I smiled when I realised what I was listening to.

“I need to go, Clint. You don’t mind flying solo tonight, do you?” Not waiting for an answer, I raced out of the office.

*******************************************

I found myself standing in front of the reception desk of the New York Journal. I tapped a good-looking brunet on the shoulder, and found myself staring into an ice-blue pair of eyes. “Hi, do you know where I can find Steven Grant… I mean, Steve Rogers?”  
  
“Yeah, the punk is covering his last wedding tonight,” he said, scribbling down an address on a Post-It note. His eyes widened in recognition. “Hey, you’re the girl from the article he wrote. You’re famous. And so much hotter in person.”  
  
“Thanks, Mr…?”

“Bucky Barnes. I’m Steve’s best friend. If you don’t catch up with him, I’ll be more than happy to take his place,” he winked at me.  
  
“No offense, but I really don’t think anybody could take his place."

  
*******************************************

I raced downstairs and managed to grab a cab straight away. I hopped in. “Pier 17, please.”  
  
The driver turned around, and grinned. “Hey, Cupcake!”  
  
“Hey, Sam! Sorry, only one dress tonight.”  
  
“Aw, man!” He pouted, but drove me to my destination without too much grumbling. I pulled up to the pier just as the boat was preparing to leave the dock. “Good luck!” he called after me.

“Hi, where’s the Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward wedding?”  
  
“Just over there, the boat’s about to leave though,” said the attendant.

I ran across the boat ramp just as they were hauling it in, and took a flying leap, managing to land on the deck of the boat before it pulled too far out. I scanned the crowd for a tall, blond head, but couldn’t find it.

Suddenly, the bride shrieked. “Oh, my God! You’re the girl from the article! What the hell are you doing at my wedding?”  
  
“Well, you see, there’s this guy…”  
  
Daisy stared at me avidly. “Okay, tell me everything!”

*******************************************

“Steve? Steve Rogers?”  
  
Steve glanced towards the stage. “Oh my God.”  
  
Daisy pointed excitedly. “There he is! Can we get a follow spot on him?”  
  
Steve squinted as the spotlight shone directly into his eyes. But he slowly made his way to the centre of the crowd, staring at me as he came forwards.

“Hey, there,” I continued nervously into the mic. “I just wanted to say that you were right about everything. About me. I just didn’t want to hear it. Especially not from you.”  
  
He stood in the middle of the crowd, illuminated by the spotlight, trying valiantly to ignore everyone around him.

“I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the right man to come along. And then _you_ showed up, and you were nothing like the man I imagined. You’re cynical and cranky and impossible and an absolute pain in my ass. But the truth is, fighting with you is the most fun I’ve ever had in my entire life. And I think that there is a better than even chance that I have fallen ever so slightly in love with you.”

Steve continued to stare at me as if I had grown another head. He didn’t say a word.

“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say so… I’m just going to go now.”  
  
I descended from the stage as the crowd parted like the Red Sea, Daisy and her groom following behind me eagerly. Before I could leave with the little bit of dignity I had left, Steve blocked my path.

“Steve, I just… I really wanted… yeah.” Very eloquent. My grasp of the English language is breathtaking sometimes.

Steve crooked his finger at me, a smile on that stupidly handsome face of his. “Get over here.”

“Wait, what?”

“Get. Over. Here.” He pointed to the spot directly in front of him, and I dutifully stepped towards it. As soon as I reached him, he grabbed my face in his hands and planted a searing kiss on my lips.

Fireworks. Choirs of angels singing. Toes curling. Stars exploding. Every single cliché you could think of. You name it, I felt it when Steve kissed me.

The bride and groom cheered wildly, as did their guests. Nobody seemed to care that we’d stolen the limelight from the happy couple.  
  
Eventually, Steve pulled away from me, looking into my eyes. “Did you really mean that, Y/N? You love me?”

“Yeah, I do.” I wrapped my arms around his ridiculously narrow waist so he couldn’t do a runner. “Do you love me?”  
  
He smirked. “I tolerate you.”  
  
Stupid jerk. But I kissed him again anyway, because he’s _my_ stupid jerk.

I waited my whole life to find Mr Right, and it only took twenty seven dresses - and flashing my thong in the back of a taxi – to catch him.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally get your Disney ending, and all of your friends are there to celebrate.

_One year later…_

The guests were gathering on the beach. Maria finished chatting to Wanda and Jarvis and started to head back to the marquee, when she was accosted by a gorgeous brunet with grey-blue eyes. Stubble covered his amazing jawline, and she noted with delight that he had a dimple in his chin.

“So, tell me, what do you think makes this wedding special?” he asked.

Maria inspected him from head to toe, liking what was before her. His suit fit him in all the right places, emphasising his broad shoulders and trim waist. “And who might you be?”  
  
“I’m the best man,” he grinned. “Maybe I can buy you a drink after the ceremony?”  
  
“It’s an open bar. Maybe I’ll buy you one.” Maria gave him a saucy wink before continuing on her way.

Bucky fist-pumped the air. “Yes!”

*******************************************

Natasha was greeting the guests, directing them to their seats. Clint and Peter headed towards her. Peter ran his hands through his curls. “Man, I forgot how hot Natasha is. Do you think she’d go for me? I’m a year older than the last time she saw me.”  
  
Clint smothered his laughter. “I’ll put in a good word for you, kid,” he said solemnly. Peter happily skipped to find a seat, and Clint smiled when he stood in front of Nat. “Hey.”

She smiled shyly in return. “Hi. Um, I’m the maid of honour. I just moved to Brooklyn with some friends, and I’m trying to find a buyer for the shoes I’m designing. I’m totally broke, and I’ve never been happier. I eat a burger a day, my idea of a pet is a rock, and I only enjoy the great outdoors if it involves a pool and a pitcher of margaritas.”

Clint grinned at her. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you…”

“Natasha,” she reminded him.

“Clint,” he replied, shaking her hand.

“Wait until you see the bride. She’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen,” Nat continued proudly. Clint nodded and made his way to his seat, turning one last time to smile again at Nat.

*******************************************

Nat arrived in the marquee just as Maria fastened my mother’s necklace around my throat. “You know, the best thing about this dress is that I can shorten it and wear it again,” Maria deadpanned.

I laughed. “That is definitely so true.”

Nat pressed a kiss to my cheek and handed my bouquet to me. “Are you ready, sis?”  
  
I nodded as I put your hand in the crook of Dad’s arm. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I followed both of them out of the marquee.

*******************************************

Maria saw Bucky blatantly ogling her as she made her way down the aisle, and gave him another flirty wink. Steve noticed, and turned to frown at his best man. “Seriously, Buck? You’re hitting on the bridesmaid before the ceremony even starts?”  
  
Bucky’s eyes remained locked with Maria’s. “Shut up, punk. It’s a wedding. Everyone knows the bridesmaids are an easy mark.”  
  
“You’re a jerk.”

Natasha was next, and blushed when she noticed Peter wink at her. Perhaps, though, it was because of the look of admiration on Clint’s face as he saw her walk past. It was obvious that the two of them were still completely smitten with each other. Hopefully they could start afresh, with no lies between them. I certainly hoped so, anyway.

Finally, I walked down the aisle. I heard murmurs of appreciation from the gathered throng, but I didn’t care.

For once, nobody had asked me to fix their hair, or their makeup. I wasn’t required to hold someone’s bouquet or a place card, or hold up somebody’s dress while they peed. I didn’t need to run around after anybody else.

It was finally _my_ day, and it was perfect, and I didn’t even care. Because the only thing that mattered was the person waiting for me at the other end of the aisle.

Steve is the only man I know who could pull off a blue tux. It matched his eyes perfectly. For some reason, he’d decided to grow a beard, and it just made him even more stupidly good looking than when he was clean shaven. It was all I could do not to race towards him and rip his clothes off then and there, wedding be damned.

He was nervously fiddling with his cufflinks, but he stopped when his eyes met mine. A huge smile adorned his gorgeous face when he saw me in my twenty-eighth dress.

I think I fell in love with him all over again when I saw him smile at me like that, looking at me the way I’d always hoped the man I loved would.

When I finally stood in front of Steve, he grabbed both of my hands in his, his eyes never leaving my face. “So, Doll, is this moment everything you hoped it would be?” he asked softly.

“Not at all.” He frowned at me in consternation. I grinned at him. “It’s even better than I could ever have imagined.”

As the celebrant conducted the ceremony, I realised that what I had told Steve last year for his article was true. One day, it was going to be my turn, and all of the friends that I’d helped in the past would be there for me.

And they were.

They didn't even have to shorten the dresses to wear them again.


End file.
